Celestial Winds
by Frayed90
Summary: Celeste discovers her control of the wind and it saves her life, but nearly destroys her mind...now a wild card, trying to stop running, but still pursued, she must choose her allies well. For her sake. For mutantkind. For humanity.
1. Mon Pere's Orders

**Psy-locke:** This is my first go at a proper OC other character….I consider my other one more of an OOC character (take my word for it…I use abbreviations.) Anyway, since I find the idea of the Assassin and Thieves' Guilds, I'm going to make my character a history from there….I really want this to be a good fic, the one that people actually READ AND REVIEW. So that means long chappies and wait for it an ACTUAL storyline! My other story on Psylocke is slightly on hiatus (till I get round to writing the next chapter and think up a major storyline to get to, instead of just having a winding series of events until I eventually get bored and decide to kill off my character). I plead for forgiveness on the basis of crappy accents. By the way…just so I don't get major death threats later…is it blasphemous to break up Romy for personal gain?

Okay, this chapter basically begins (hence the name, Chapter One). We introduce Celeste's newly found powers, who she knows and why she's in of other characters introduced, so that we set up a scene for later angsty bits. Long flashback, sorry!

(/\)

**Chapter One:** _Mon_ _Pere's Orders_

The wind slashed at the girl's figures. They cut lonely figures, on that stone bridge on the water. Belladonna's blonde hair was almost colourless in the overcast day. Her bright, blue eyes were steely and her painted lips were a thin line and spoke of nothing but business. In two hands a dark gun, with the Assassin Guild's symbol on it embellished on gold. A pistol and dagger crossing- how very appropriate.

The other girl, at whom the gun was aimed, smiled ruefully, her grey eyes mirroring the colour of the low-lying clouds that hung ominously above them. There was a storm coming and that girl's hair, too, whipped across her face.

They could well have been sisters. Each stood tall and as still as the grave. Indeed, they wore almost identical outfits. Black leather dusters- the colour dull and without shine. Similar material, though lighter, curved over their sleek figures. The same belt with the same gun holsters, although Belladonna's was empty. The blonde girl's outfit had touches of gold- the belt buckle, the shining buttons and the plain chain around her neck- the other girl the same, but with touches of bright silver. On the girl's wrist, dangling just below the duster's sleeve, a silver bracelet with fine inscription peeked out. If one had a chance to examine it, the name, 'Celeste', could be read.

Celeste- for that was the dark-haired girl's name- took a step backwards, towards stone ledge of the bridge that would prevent a drunken New Orleans' citizen from taking a dip in the bayou. Belle narrowed her eyes.

"Don't move," she ordered coldly, training the gun on her target's torso.

"Why not, Belle? It's not like ya couldn't hit me if I ran. Y'always were the better one with guns," Celeste retorted, taking another step backwards. "I'm surprised Marius sent ya anyway. Why didn't he send someone who'd shoot straight away, though hesitatin' ain't your style."

Belle advanced slightly.

"Mon pere's given ya dis last chance to come back. Even said he'd give ya a trial- haven't ya wondered why ya still breathin', Leste?"

"Well, ain't your _pere _the model of generosity. I'm not comin' in so shoot or put that pistol away. I'm done wid the Assassins and I'm sick of these stupid guild wars."

"Ya were told when ya joined. Ya only leave da guild with a knife in da back," she replied, aiming the gun at her old friend's heart. "Guess a bullet hole would do though."

"M'not sorry for what I did, Belle. The Guild's been good to me and all, but I sure as hell ain't a killer for hire."

"But ya killed ya own team-mate. For a thief," Belle spat. She hated the thieves with a passion. So much had changed since that night. "Ya could'f let Julien die too."

Celeste's clear, grey eyes stared steadily into Belle's own. If this was her death, she wouldn't look away from it.

"And I have no regrets."

"Den I may as well of shot ya da second I saw ya."

Celeste's heart started pumping. It was dizzying. It wasn't the first time that Belle had pointed a gun at her, or indeed some other potentially fatal action, but this time it was with deadly earnest. She swayed slightly, then straightened up. She wouldn't die this way. She couldn't die this way.

She refused to die this way.

The wind that had previously harried that New Orleans' bridge, sending autumn leaves skirting around them, suddenly began to roar and Celeste clutched at her head, suddenly, the wind pressure around her suddenly dropping. Belladonna dropped to her knees as that phantom wind sought to pluck her from the ground. Celeste, too, fell to her knees. Her eyes were glowing white now and her mouth was slightly agape. On the streets, shop fronts began to close and the people to retreat to what shelter there was. They were well-trained to deal with tornadoes, or whatever it was that Mother Nature chose to throw at them.

The wind only increased and it seemed to bear down on Belladonna. It was no ordinary wind. Celeste was causing it. Celeste, whose own scream of fear was the very voice of the wind. She couldn't control the power- the power of the wind itself- coursing through her veins. The wind seemed only to be an extension of her own body and she pressed her enemy. But that raw power couldn't be moulded by her and torrents of wind whipped through the area, dislodging house tiles and smashing windows. She tried to quash it.

"Arrête! Arrête! Arrête!" Belladonna was yelling, in panicked French. In one hand, she still clutched the gone and the other clawed for a grip, some purchase on the stone of that bridge.

Celeste's hair was flaring outwards in a dark parody of an angelic halo. Her mouth was a rictus of fear.

"Trop de puissance! Je ne peux pas!" she wailed.

Belladonna, just as the winds tore her from the bridge, in an attempt to bear her high into the heavens, shot once, twice, three times. The wind snared two of the bullets, slamming them into the ground on either side of Celeste. The third flew true; seeking the elusive spot between two ribs- Belladonna was masterful in her trade of death. As the bullet cut through the wind, Celeste's body stiffened and her back arched, as her feet lifted off the ground and jerked her body upwards. The bullet cut through her jacket and, for a moment, her eyes returned to their normal colour. And the very moment after, as the bullet sank into her chest, she disappeared.

--Flashback -->

"Dis is stupid," Belle hissed, as Julien lifted her through the window.

"Hush, petite soeur. Pere wants dis trinket, so we gonna get't for de thieves do. Ya know why he wants it, heh? Think dat them dogs are better off with it?"

"Don't ya f'get I'm marryin' one of dem dogs."

Julien scowled. He'd kill the devil-eyed thief, before he let him even touch his sister. In fact, the thief would probably meet with an unfortunate accident on the way home from the wedding.

"And I though y'were marryin' that devilishly handsome Prince of Thieves," teased Celeste, as she appeared in the window.

Belle's dagger was immediately at the girls throat.

"You thinkin' thoughts about my beau?"

Celeste rolled her eyes.

"Sure I am. He's a fine piece'f flesh, but I ain't gonna be the one picking up all the pieces of it after you've had ya fun with him Belle. Unless ya planned on stayin' faithful, heh?"

Belle smiled and re-sheathed the dagger. She offered her hand to her joking friend.

"Pere says he doesn't want no blood spilt unless ya have to," she said with very little sincerity. "Is Benoit coming up?"

"Non. Benny-boy be parking the car."

She spoke Benoit's name with contempt. The guy, despite his cockiness, was as exciting as a rock. A rock that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It wasn't as if Celeste could tell him who she was really with…that way was bloodshed for all…

"Thieves," hissed Julien, as they faded back into the shadows, breaths held. Three figures were indeed slipping past, inky blobs in the museum's twilight darkness.

"No shooting. Too loud," breathed Julien. "Da tallest one's mine."

It was obvious that it was indeed Remy Le Beau and two of the farflung members of Le Beau's seemingly endless clan. The Elixir of Life guaranteed many children in a generation.

'Too many,' thought Julien. 'May's'well do Jean-Luc a favour and get rid of one.'

They skirted the walls, towards the place that the jewel they sought was displayed.

"They're fast, I give'em that," Celeste murmured as Belle swore silently.

The jewel was gone. The thieves, however, lingered just out of eyesight.

"Take'em," ordered Belladonna.

"Le Beau!" said Julien harshly as the thieves turned back.

The tallest turned slightly, head still bowed, auburn hair loose across his forehead.

"Belle, mon amore, Remy didn' think dat thieving was your style," he said smoothly, ignoring Julien.

"Ya got something of mine, Remy. I want it."

He raised an eyebrow and lifted his head. He revealed his glowing eyes- a glinting scarlet on bottomless black. Those eyes now glittered with amusement.

"Non, mon amore. Remy'll be givin' ya lots of rubis et émeraudes et diamants, but ya can't have dis one."

One of the dark-haired thieves was eyeing Celeste, then tipped her an obvious, yet suggestive wink.

"Eyes ta'yaself thief. Ya don't want bebes, do ya Belle? Why don't we castrate'em?"

Mock horror on Remy's face. He reached into a coat and pulled out his a card.

"Dose be another one of Remy's jewels ya can't have. 'Sides, Remy learnt a new trick."

The card in his hand suddenly began to glow. It was fascinating, but Celeste was edging to the side.

"Belle, Remy doesn't think dat did marriage gonna work out. J'ai de meilleures choses à faire que marient une chienne folle comme toi."

He threw the card at their feet.

"Move," yelled Celeste, dodging to the side as Belle whipped behind a pillar.

Julien strode forward.

"You'll pay for that ya devil-eyed batard!"

The card whined and exploded, sending Julien flying backwards into the very pole that shielded Belle.

"Julien!" she yelled, whipping out her gun and firing shots into the smoky darkness. There was one cry of pain and someone fell to the ground.

"Ya look after him, I'll get 'em!"

Celeste dashed into the darkness then stopped.

"Etienne? Y'alright? Eti?"

"S'okay," a male voice murmured. Etienne shuffled forward, his leg oozing blood, supported by his brother, Theo.

"Etienne, ya gotta get outta here. Belle's gonna kill y'all."

"We be on our way, chere. Didn't know dat Remy'd do that. Idiot. Looks like da guild war's gonna get bad now."

"Remy's gone. He took da jewel and he ran," Theo whispered, seeming weary. "Don't think dat we'll be seein' him again."

"Ya gotta get outta here, both of ya."

She linked an arm with Etienne, supporting him.

"Non, m'amore. You get outta here. Belle can't see you with us. Your death too."

He was weak, but reached out an a hand to stroke her pale face. He leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on her mouth.

"What da hell is going on here?"

Out of the darkness, Benoit strode brandishing a throwing knife. Celeste turned as if electrocuted.

"Is dat what ya turned me down for? Dat piece of thieven' trash?" he yelled, pulling out one of his throwing knives. He was a notoriously good shot.

Celeste immediately whipped out her gun.

"Get back, Benoit."

There was a crazy gleam in his eyes and he flicked his hand forward, just as Celeste shot. Celeste's shot slammed just below his heart, but his hot was truer. As Benoit fell gasping and wheezing, his lung punctured, Etienne had slumped onto his brother. A dagger in his side and blood coursed down his side. His eyes already seemed to glaze over.

"Belle," he wheezed once, before he closed his eyes for the last time.

"Eti?" Celeste whispered. It was too late, he was gone. She hadn't even understood what his last word had meant.

"Get out of here," Theo whispered urgently. "Now. Eti wouldn't want ya caught up in this. Get out of da guild, get outta New Orleans. Ya can't go back now."

Celeste took a last look at Benoit, whose breathing had stopped too.

She ran into the darkness. There was no going back, ever. It was her first kill, her own team-mate. No going back now.

Theo faded into the darkness. The guilds had an unspoken agreement. The dead would be respected and returned.

The bodies of Etienne and Benoit lay on the ground, slowly losing the warmth of life. Becoming cold. Belle had seen it all. Etienne, as his soul departed from his body, had seen her and tried to warn them.

"There's no goin' back now," she said coldly, hands red with Julien's lifeblood.

--End Flashback -->

Have you ever had that dream when you're flying? When you're so high above everything that nothing matters? Snippets of memory. Moments of seeming consciousness.

Celeste dreamt, she disembodied herself from what it had been to be human. Everything had been to hard. Now, she floated on air. Or was she air? Either way, she had no desire to return.

She was a wisp of air in the wide, infinite sky. Air doesn't feel. Air doesn't think. Air is nowhere, but it is everywhere. These words echoed through her head. For a moment, her human conciousness arose.

'You're doin' this,' she told herself, 'this must be 'anoth one of them powers.'

She quelled such thoughts, content to not be human. But she didn't think she was a mutant either. Perhaps she should try to turn back.

'No. Not yet,' she said.

She closed her mind's eye and relaxed. She felt her astral body float and join an air current. It would be spring soon and the warmer winds of the south blew ever north.

(/\)

**Psy-Locke:** sigh My greatest work yet, especially since my other work's so dodgy. So, team, what did you think? Celeste has discovered her powers, y'all know what she's running from and now she's headed north…what's north of New Orleans? Why…Bayville, New York! Drifting upon the air currents, Celeste had forgotten herself and doesn't want to remember…and Cerebro has detected something strange…and what has Storm so bothered? Find out next time I feel like writing! READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!


	2. Y'can Have it

**Psy-lock:** Bonjour, mon amis! New Chapter everyone- Celeste and Storm are linked by their weather-controlling abilities, Xavier finds her and...well, basically, it's just that, but expanded very nicely. Enjoy!

-+-

**Chapter Two: Y'can have it**

Professor Charles Xavier furrowed his brow in concentration. He may have been the world's greatest telepath, but he by no means considered himself its greatest thinker. And, indeed, this would appear to be a conundrum to stump any great detective. Xavier had first detected the mutant's signal over a week ago. The freak winds that had rattled New Orleans during that very same hour had been no coincidence.

He had, at first, believed that the mutant, having no control over his or her newly-manifested powers, had no control over them. Ever the optimistic recruiter, he had sent his X-Men on a mission to the Southern city (much to Rogue's delight, but Scott, the team leader, was quick to quell that). It was what had been dubbed a big 'R' mission: rescue or recruitment.

There had been no scared mutants to rescue, flocked by angry anti-mutant supporters or trapped by their lack of control over their own powers. No scared teenager nor worried family to consult. There was no-one there. Ne rescue and no recruitment. Instead, what they'd found had lead to the mystery that continued to plague Xavier's mind. He steepled his hands, going over the evidence in his mind.

An outfit in leather: combat boots, jeans, top and many-pocketed duster. Canvas gloves, light and breathable. A belt with an empty gun holster. A row of neat, little throwing knives and a lethal looking dagger in one boot. Three bullets: one coated with the blood of a mutant.

Jean, who was considered the best at human-mutant relations, had asked the thick-accented citizens of the area whether they'd heard of any shootings. She'd been met with thin-lipped silences, outright rejections and no few people, who had gabbled away apologetically in French before turning to share a laugh with friends.

"D'you mean da ones last night in da alley or da ones in da museums real early dis mornin'? Or was it da shootout ya were after?" one had queried her in a conversant tone; there would be no answers there.

The clothes and the weapons found had been strewn by the wind on the bridge. The same scent that Logan had picked up on the clothes, seemed to pervade the whole city, preventing any form of physical tracking. However, Cerebro was still able to locate a mutant, if that mutant was to use his or her powers.

And, most confusing of all, the fact that the signal had not died out. The same mutant was now using her powers constantly, so that, since her powers had first manifested, she had yet to stop using that power. At times, she had ripped across the country and at others she had sluggishly circled certain areas. She was inconstant and untraceable.

"Where are you? What are you doing?" he said, both aloud and telepathically. "I intend no harm. Reveal yourself."

There was the same empty silence- not that it was ever truly silent for the Professor. There was always the roaring undertone of millions of individual thinking, always thinking. He sighed heavily, before wheeling himself out of the room. He needed a break. A cup of tea, perhaps. The door opened, machinated by unseen forces, and Xavier nearly ran into his colleague, Ororo Monroe: Storm.

"My apologies, Ororo. I've been distracted," he explained. "Perhaps you might join me for tea?"

"Of course, Charles. I'm glad that you summoned me, for I have matters I wish to discuss with you," Storm said, a slight expression of puzzlement on her face. 'Surely he didn't summon me for a cup of tea…'

Xavier sighed.

"I'm afraid that I must have projected that particular thought across the mansion. Undoubtedly, I shall have all the students revealing themselves to me this afternoon."

"Then perhaps I will discuss it with you after," Storm conceded, a little distracted.

"It would be better. Scott and Jean are probably in their uniforms by now," Charles said, with a ghost of a chuckle.

Ororo laughed too, a rich, melodic sound as soothing as the first sounds of rain on the roof. They parted.

'X-Men, please disregard my last command,' Xavier projected across the mansion.

Some floors above him, he heard a dull thump. Sam Guthrie had yet to adjust to other presences in his mind. He pretty much dropped whatever he was holding or fell over his own feet whenever his or Jean's mind reached out.

'Why? Why didn't I hear it before?' he questioned himself. 'Why only Storm?'

So many questions. There were always so many questions.

Flashback >

Carried. She was being carried. Not gently cradled, or even half-dragged, but slung over someone's shoulder and being jostled about like a sack of potatoes. She remained still and relaxed, but opened one eye slightly. No wonder she couldn't hear footsteps- her captor tread softly on red, thick and luxurious. Voices- voices raised in alarm.

"Merde, Belle, what happened?"

"Dis fool 'ttacked Julien-"

"S'he alright?" the man said in a tone of a command, that demanded the right answers and respect; Celeste could feel eyes burning into her form, but, with an effort, she kept from stiffening.

"Da boy's fine-" another man's voice now "-just a little scratch to da chest. He be at da doctor's now."

"So he knocked de fille out?"

"Non, pere," I did," the girl's voice again, scornful and proud. "Julien busy bein' polite."

There was a loud chuckle.

"And at what point did ya get dat belle shiner?"

"She hit me," she murmured back.

"She landed a hit on ya Belle- m'own femme fatale. I tought dat ya trainers said ya could fight hand-to-hand?"

"Non pere! Dis girl- she's a thief- she is! She was afta his money!"

"A thief?"

The tone had changed now and the tension was high. The silence was ominous.

"You dere, fille. Get up. You a thief?"

Caught out. Celeste stood unsteadily, swaying slightly. Red spots danced across her vision.

"No sir- not a thief. Never stolen a thing in my life."

She could barely see; she swayed on her feet.

"If y'ain't a thief, why'd ya attack my fils?"

"To take his wallet," Celeste said honestly, with a frown- this wasn't sounding right in her fevered mind.

Silence.

"But I didn't- did I?"

The man laughed again.

"Ya a brave child! Like dat- ya attacked a boy three times ya senior and twice ya weight. Who's ya pere?"

Celeste pressed her lips together slightly.

"No pere? Ya gotta place to stay? No 'un but a thief 'ttacks people for dere money if dey gotta home. No home, heh?"

The slightest shake of a head. There was a contemplative silence. 'Just kick me out,' Belle begged with the voice of her mind, 'Don't you dare call the cops…'

"Belle, ya put this girl on of da guest rooms. No good ta us if she passes out again."

There was a whispered complaint.

"We always need new blood Belle. 'Sides, if dat Jean-Luc can pick a potential off the streets, so can I."

"Ya follow the girl with da pretty blue and black eyes. We talk later, heh?" he addressed her again.

"Yes sir," she said obediently, but still not entirely cognisant of what had just occurred..

As she followed the blonde girl, around her own age, out of the room, Storm mouthed 'Merci' to the man, who would give her everything in life.

End Flashback >

'Merci' Storm mouther into the emptiness of her lofty, attic greenhouse. She was remembering when he had first met Marius Boudreaux, who would eventually commission someone to kill her. But Storm had never met these people: Julien; Belladonna; Marius.

'That's not my memory,' she said to herself. 'Whose is it?'

It was like a chill breeze on the back of one's neck. It was not telepathy, but nor was it spoken aloud. Just a whisper, borne on the wind.

'No it's not,' the voice sighed. 'It's a good memory though- y'should keep it.'

'Who are you?' Storm projected wildly, seeking that ghostly presence.

Flashback >

"Who're you?" the dark-haired boy asked her suspiciously, edging along the wall that separated the French from the rest of New Orleans.

"Celeste," she replied, flashing him a genuine smile. "And you are most certainly one the Le Beaus, heh?"

The boy grinned back.

"Oui- da good looks run in da family, don't dey? Etienne."

"One of Tante Mattie's brood. She says you're all th'same. Such handsome boys dey are- with such great big heads. Merde, dey'll be the death'f me!" she imitated the healer, who travelled often between the guilds.

"Dat's her alright. How d'you know her?"

"She comes t'the guild sometimes."

There had been a silence, and Celeste sent a sly look at him and smiled in amusement. Etienne's eyes were alive with fear and apprehension.

"R'lax. I'm not gonna kill ya."

Etienne had immediately relaxed and sent her a charming grin, revealing a mischievous set of dimples.

"Ya wanna walk?"

"Ya gonna buy me an ice cream?"

Etienne's grin had widened and he offered her a hand.

"Oui."

"Merci, Monsieur Le Beau," Celeste had replied with a giggle, practicing her French.

Etienne's eyes once more lit with shared mirth, then glazed over.

"Belle," he wheezed, before slumping forward, blood pooling at his feet.

"Etienne…"

Etienne dead. Benoit dead. A gun in her right hand and a dagger in her left.

There was no going back.

End Flashback >

'No going back…'the voice murmured sadly, receding slowly.

The link broken, Storm cast wildly about. She didn't know the girl, but it was only a child- lost and confused.

'Where are you?' she pleaded.

'Ororo! Are you alright?'

'Don't worry Ms Munroe- Mr McCoy is on his way up. Who were you calling to?'

Her desperate call had not gone unheard. Jean and Xavier, both telepaths, had answered. Storm came back to herself. The small rain cloud she had conjured to water her precious plants was now a small, raging storm, confined within the attic. With a shaking hand, she swept it away and it dispersed, just as Jean ran in, closely trailed by Hank.

The blue doctor took one look at Storm and whisked her off her feet to the Medilab. Storm, regaining her regal and serene manner, if a bit sharp, demanded to be released. But Hank, official monarch of the Medilab, had a rule: _if you can't walk into the Medilab, then you certainly can't walk out._

"Shall I demonstrate my good health by flying out, Beast? I'd secure the beds and all the machinery down, since I am not allowed to _walk_ out. Must I remind you that I am not one of the children?" Storm had countered, perhaps a little scathingly; she did need to see the Professor, after all.

The hulking doctor observed the indignant African queen mildly. Storm immediately regretted her outburst.

"I am sorry, Hank. I really must see Charles. This hurt is not my own and no physic will heal it."

Hank smiled empathically.

"Well it is fortunate that Charles has just now entered the room, is it not?"

Storm reddened and turned to face Xavier.

"I believe now is the right time to discuss those problems," Charles Xavier stated gravely.

"I am sorry," Storm said, hanging her head down, so that her long white hair hung down. "I should have consulted you earlier."

"Now is not the time for regrets, Ororo. Something is wrong. Tell me."

"I've been getting the oddest feeling lately…my emotions will dip and soar for no reasons. And I have…thoughts- thoughts of things I know not."

Xavier was silent. Storm stared at the floor, eyes wide.

"And memories. Memories so vivid that it is like a moving picture. And I am in them."

Storm's tone intensified.

"But these thought and memories. They don't belong to me. I did not manifest, nor did I manifest the voice who speaks from outside my body to me."

She laughed suddenly, more desperate than melodic.

"You must think me touched, Charles!"

Charles cocked his head, honing in on one particular thought of his own devising.

"Touched, yes…but not by madness, but another mutant," he said conclusively.

"A telepath?" Storm asked, speculatively.

"No. When did these problems start?"

"Not last week," Storm said, puzzled.

"Indeed. In fact, I would hazard a guess that they began on Sunday evening, when we returned from New Orleans."

Something in Xavier's mind clicked. He began to mutter under his breath.

"The freak winds…the message I sent to the girl. Of course…"

His eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"A conduit."

He wheeled over to Storm's side.

"I communicated to her and found you. You are acting as a conduit, somehow bonded by your akin powers. The control of the very forces of nature. And, if I can reach you through her, I can reach her through you."

Storm understood now. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"You may do it," she said quietly.

Xavier was shocked by her trust. Storm was an exceedingly private woman and to allow him to invade her mind was really quite a large thing.

"Are you sure?" he said, preparing his barriers and testing Storm's own.

'Yes,' she thought, so the Professor could hear.

'Relax…' he said, merging into her mind.

It was dark, so dark. But, somehow, the sky was beautiful and held the promise of rain and sunshine and moonlight and gale at the same time. Storm's mind, like her powers, was of nature. He floated there, bereft of the confines of his own crippled body.

"Where are you?" he called out. "Please come out…"

The voice echoed and faded.

"No…" the merest breath of thought, so quiet that it seemed to disappear the moment it began.

It served to strengthen the bond.

"You are there," Professor Xavier said, forcing her into being.

"No, I'm not," Celeste stated, but it was too late.

His voice called to her and her response brought her there. She materialised before him and looked up into the sky, then back at him.

"You found me," she said sadly.

-+-

There y'all go. Next chapter? Rescuing Celeste from her own powers...Jean's a bitch, Scott's an idiot and I'm a person. Hmm...I might be away for a couple of weeks, because I'm on a private vendetta to go attack Steve Irwin...stupid idiot.


	3. Release

**Psy-lock:** Psy-lock is back again. Here's the chapter where Celeste is rescued from her big bad powers and Jean gets beaten up…what? You like Jean? Don't worry…I made my Jean into a quasi-bitch, so you needn't worry too much. In fact, you'll probably enjoy it. What else did I do? Yeah, Scott is still 'stick-up-the-ass' leader and very much whipped by Jean…but he doesn't know whether there's any hope for being any more than friends….or team mates.

(o0)

**Chapter Three: Release**

"You found me."

Those words reverberated with immeasurable regret and sadness- yet, at the same time, there was hope now; someone would help, someone would once more put faith in her.

"Y'don't deserve help, y'filthy traitor,' a voice echoed in her mind; it was Belle's voice, Julien's voice- her own voice.

'Heed not the voices of the mind,' Storm ordered- her voice authorative and soothing. 'For what crime you have punished yourself thus, you have yet a lifetime of redemption, child.'

'Who says I want redemption?' Celeste replied, softly withdrawing from the weather witch's mind, as gentle as an evening breeze, pulling a cloak of darkness to cover herself. 'Not everyone gets a second chance…'

Storm found herself once more, deluged by strange thoughts. However, these were all of her making. Charles's presence was still there and had observed the child's withdrawal. He followed suit, focussing on his crippled, physical body.

"Ororo," he said sharply, seeing the woman still lost in her thoughts.

Storm's eyes opened.

"Did you see her? Did you hear her?"

"Yes, I did. She hid from me, but I observed her final words, because you chose to keep your mind open to me."

"What shall we do? She is obviously deeply troubled and wanders aimlessly, entrenched in her own powers…she desires oblivion."

Somewhere in the link, Celeste retained her awareness. There was a slight twinge, which caused Storm to flinch in surprise. The bitterness there virtually held the words, "I'll say!"

Charles grimaced in sympathy.

"I could, with your consent, block her presence from your mind. If her thoughts continue to intrude, she may cause further problems. A mental block, perhaps- like Rogue's. Your mind will remain your own. The girl shows no inclination to assist in her own rescue and, if she does not want help, who are we to rush to her aid?"

Storm looked at Xavier, aghast. He would encourage her to block the presence of a child- a child in need- from her mind. Rogue had spoken of that block- how the psyches riled at their imprisonment and begged for release.

"Perhaps," she said demurely, "after we rescue her."

There was an unspoken plea in those words and Charles felt it. He sighed and raised his hands, positioning his palms on her temples.

"I will need to enter your mind, so I can find her signal using Cerebro."

"Of course you may, Charles."

(0o)

Jean felt a thrill of pleasure- the pleasure of power. Not the frustration of the boundaries of her own telekinetic and telepathic powers, but the power of authority.

'Oh, and Jean, the whole team will not be involved in this rescue mission…only you, Kurt, Robert, Logan and Storm will be involved.'

'Isn't Bobby a little inexperienced to be going on missions?' Jean queried, as if politely concerned for his safety.

'He has proved himself,' was the guarded reply.

'Of course, Professor,' Jean replied quickly, voice dripping with obsequious respect.

Raising a hand and coaxing her hairbrush from its dresser to her, where she sat on her bed, she sent the psychic message to the other X-Men, telling them to suit up and meet at the Blackbird. She ran her brush through her silken fall of crimson hair, tilting her head in such a way that she knew the light would catch its burnished highlights and set them aglow. Hey- if you were off saving the world, one mutant and a time, you had to look your best! Ah- and to inform the other team leader of the mission.

She changed into her uniform, cursing the spandex, which clung, almost stickily, to her skin, while admiring the way it held to her curves, emphasising her willowy form. Stepping out into the empty hall, she turned out of the teachers' wing (where she and Scott now claimed a spot) and headed through the students' corridors.

"Scott!" she called out, catching a glimpse of him, as he paused outside one of the student's rooms.

"Jean? Do we have a mission?" Scott said, straightening his body, going into his Mighty Leader mode.

"Oh, did the Professor not inform you?" Jean said in surprise, and then gave a tinkling laugh. "Don't worry- it's only a rescue mission…that mutant, who we were looking for in New Awlins…nothing huge. Just Ororo, Logan and me."

"New Orleans," Scott corrected, wondering why he hadn't been informed. 'The Professor knows best,' he told himself loyally.

"Of course he does," Jean said with a dazzling smile, before passing Scott, as Scott stepped out her path.

As she walked down the hall, she paused and turned her head slightly, flicking her silken mane over her shoulder.

"Oh, sorry Scott; you'll have to take a raincheck on helping the kids with that little study-group of theirs tonight. See ya."

"See ya, Jeanie," he said, turning in the opposite direction.

"Kurt and Bobby too…" a voice drawled from the doorway he has just left.

"Huh?" Scott said in confusion, turning back.

"Kurt and Bobby are going on the mission too," Rogue drawled, raising an eyebrow at Scott's lack of guile. "Ya knocked?"

Rogue was standing in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe. In her gloved hands she held a third glove. It was a strange one: specially-tailored for a large, three fingered hand. Of course, before Jean had called out to him, he had been going to tell Rogue something. And, of course, Rogue would have hear the whole conversation, through no fault of her own.

"Yeah," Scott said, face colouring slightly, as he ran his hand through his short hair embarrassedly, "Ummm…I was just coming up to let you know that you didn't have to help with the New Recruits' study group tonight, but, seeing as we've had a late pullout, I guess it's still on."

"Sure, Cyc…" she said, with a hint of a mocking smile. "I guess."

She made as if to shut the door, but Scott quickly planted his hand on the door.

"How do you know that they're going on the mission?" he asked curiously.

The answer was made clear- when a cloud of sulphur-reeking smoke manifested itself, with a loud 'bamf'. Kurt's trademark entrance. He shook his head, clearing a space of less-clouded air.

"Mein freur, have you seen mein uniform glove?" he said, waggling large blue (bare) fingers in Rogue's direction and ignoring Scott. "Mees Perfect Redhead vill kill me if I'm late."

"Sure, sugah," Rogue said, brandishing the glove she held in her hand. "Y'all be careful now, 'kay?"

"Da," Kurt agreed, bamfing to the underground hangar, now in full uniform.

Scott looked mutely at the spot, where Kurt has been. He knew that Rogue, perhaps, had been a little jealous- even resentful- of Jean, but he didn't know that there seemed to be an Anti-Jean streak in the X-Men.

"Jeez, Cyc- relax," Rogue said, rolling her eyes and slamming the door shut.

Scott stood a moment, staring at the closed door. He'd always known Rogue (well, since she'd joined the X-Men) to almost go out of her way to avoid him- let alone talk like that to him. He scowled to himself. He wondered where she'd gone in February- other than to New Orleans with Gambit…what had happened there?

"Wow!" came a voice, from around his feet.

Scott looked down, seeing Kitty Pryde's body phase through the ground at his feet. She grinned sheepishly at him, as her feet pulled through the carpet, but she still stood a good two heads below him in height.

"Hey Scott!" she greeted him perkily, then ran straight through him and the door.

Scott stared at the door for a moment, almost jealously, knowing he wasn't welcome there. Sure, he hadn't reciprocated Rogue's attentions, when she'd obviously been crushing on him, but now, he was almost jealous of Kitty's familiarity with her. Suddenly, he felt very lonely, standing in that dark hallway. There was a murmured comment in the room, followed by a loud, husky laugh.

"Yeah, Kit, Jean walked past him and Cyc didn't know what hit'm!"

Scott sighed heavily; maybe he should give up on Jean…sure, she wasn't with Duncan anymore, but she hadn't shown much interest in him lately. His thoughts were interrupted, as the pounding of footsteps thundered towards him. Jubilee and Jaime, New Recruits, ran to the window at the end of the hall.

"Man, that's totally crazy!" Jubilee exclaimed.

"Yeah- we were just playing basketball down there!" young Jaime agreed.

Past their heads, Scott saw the Blackbird flicker in and out of sight, as it moved into stealth mode and disappeared into the darkening sky. It was surprisingly soundless.

Inside, on the other hand, it was surprisingly loud.

"Iceman calling Nightcrawler. Repeat: Iceman calling Nightcrawler. Out."

"Nightcrawler in. Vhat's up, Iceman? Out."

Yes, it was Bobby's first, official mission and he was excited. His partner in pranking crime, Kurt, was equally thrilled at the prospect. Jean, Storm and Wolverine, didn't seem to share their animation, especially since Xavier's novel idea of providing each member of the team with a head piece, so that all messages were sent, direct-feed, straight to everyone's ears. No, it didn't seem to matter that they had a telepath, who could fulfil that exact same function- but, still, the younger mutants seem to enjoy them.

Wolverine ground his teeth and Storm, sitting right next to him and recognising the signs, thanked the gods that the man hadn't had adamantium grafted to his teeth. Wolverine, however, was still perfectly capable of tearing out the kids' throats, if they didn't shut up- he had long since 'removed' his own head piece, which- now a disconsolate piece of crushed metal and wiring- now lay somewhere outside the ship.

"Nightcrawler calling Storm. Nightcrawler calling Storm. Distance to target requested. Out."

"Kurt, we are almost there and I would ask that you remain silent. The new mutant is extremely unstable and we do not want to do anything to further aggravate her," Storm said rather briskly, to Jean's gratitude. "Storm out," she finished, almost tolerantly.

The two teenage mutants were instantly silent; they may have goofed off when they should have been studying, they occasionally feigned illness and injury to get out of Danger Room, but they would never do anything to put their mission in jeopardy. Such was the sigma that was attached to the X-Men; it was a sign of belonging and purpose. It was that, which drew and held loners, like Wolverine, and those, who feared closeness, like Rogue, to the Institute. It was that same purpose that had captured Storm's spirit and bound the sky goddess to that place. Storm only hoped that the mutant they sought would assume that dream too…

Her eyes drifted to the scanner, whose technology (courtesy of Forge) had been altered, so that it could follow co-ordinates provided by Cerebro. They weren't far. Apparently, the almost astral body of the girl was caught in a cyclone circle, which was threatening to break, just offshore of a remote north-western shore. The Blackbird shot past the coastline and shook slightly, as it hit the stronger winds. Far below them, the water formed huge peaks, which clashed against one another, sending salt spray into the sky. It was dusk now, and the last of the light captured the scene in dramatic shades of grey and ever-deepening, living greens and blues.

"Stormy weather," Logan observed ironically, looking sidelong at Storm. "Sure ya know what ya doing, 'Ro?"

"Should I be worrying about the weather?" Storm countered. She directed her next statement to Bobby. "I'm sorry, Bobby, but you will have to remain in the plane; this is too dangerous. Jean, you will accompany me."

Storm's eyes reflected the clouded sky outside the jet, and the turbulence that affected the aircraft somewhat lessened as the winds were averted.

"I'll circle 'round," Wolverine offered. "If you or Red got a problem, I'll send Elf here to haul ya outta there."

A hatch opened in the roof of the Blackbird and Jean levitated herself out, as Storm flew out. In the cold air, above the rushing sea, Jean began to shake, before erecting a telekinetic ball around her, to hold out the wind and cold. This adverse weather, of course, did not affect Storm in the slightest. Her white main became a dazzling halo in the twilight scenery, as she dropped altitude, to hover some twenty metres above the sea. Jean joined her.

'I was briefed by the Professor,' Jean sent to Storm, 'but I am still not exactly sure, where this mutant is.'

'She is here,' Storm replied simply.

'M'here…' a thought floated through Storm's mind, which was further connected to Jean's telepathic link.

A gust of wind wrapped around Storm's figure, then whistled through the air, as if to do the same to Jean.

'Who's da beach ball?' Celeste asked, almost scornfully.

"Where is she?" Jean yelled out, turning in the air, somewhat put off by the beach ball comment.

"She's in the air! She's the wind! Find her with your powers!"

Jean scanned the sky, with her telepathy. There- no there! There was a presence, which whipped around. It's physical form was ever-moving and insubstantial, but there was no doubt that there was a presence there. Jean had to still her.

'Stop moving,' she ordered, tracing the link between Storm and the girl.

'Oui…tell me how, beach ball?' was the retorted thought, not directed at Jean, but picked up nonetheless.

Well, Storm had told her to use her powers.

Concentrating on the frenzied wisp of air, which was the girl, Jean tried to force it into a shape. Celeste didn't like that. Imagine infinite freedom, then being held, crushed in the fist of some invisible power, which sought to mould you into a more desirable shape. No, Celeste did _not_ like that at all.

She struggled and Jean gave a panicked cry as her concentration was broken. As Celeste felt the iron grip loosen, she struck out. The speed was incredible, the power, admirable. Jean felt the presence rushing towards her and, as it neared, a line- like a thin, white razor, appeared in the air. A razorblade of wind. It struck Jean's telekinetic bubble, thrashing at it, as Jean sought to reinforce it. Fear overcame Jean and the walls fell and the wind hit her, cutting through the spandex at her midriff and cutting shallowly into her skin, before fading past her.

'Mon Dieu…m'sorry, m'sorry, m'sorry…' the frenzied voice of the girl cried out in Storm's mind, distress touching Storm, too.

"Jean!" she cried, swooping low to catch her, before she hit the water.

Before she reached her, however, a column of air rose, straight into the air, catching and cradling the swooning redhead. It was almost eerie. The unconscious Jean couldn't hold herself steady and the wind seemed to rock her gently, as the pillar of wind, rushing upwards, sought to keep her safe.

'M'sorry, m'sorry…' the voice still murmured, drowned out by Celeste's own concentration.

To her immense surprise, her burden became heavy then entirely disappeared; somewhere, within the scope of her powers, she felt a rush of heated air, which rapidly disappeared, as molecules of some substance petered away. In Storm's eyes, Kurt had just teleported onto that cradle of stillness then ported Jean back to the ship.

'Change back now! Remember your body and what it was like to be human!' Storm cried, as the wind was whipped to a frenzy; the cyclone was becoming worse.

Celeste's mind paused and, for a moment, she was still. Now was her chance. Would she take it?

((Flashback))

Two teenagers stood on a bridge. They didn't know each other; or, perhaps, they simply ignored one another. Each seemed to be focussed on the water that rushed under that stone bridge, bringing the dirty, wet, magical and spicy scent of the New Orleans' waterfront with it.

"Bonjour, Celeste," the boy murmured, as if to himself, but Celeste was listening.

" 'Lo, Eti," Celeste murmured back, focussing on the water below her.

"Ya didn't come to da park, last night…" Etienne whispered, questions unasked, but not unheard.

"I hadda job," Celeste replied, uncomfortably- she didn't like speaking about Guild matters; neither of them did.

"…and?" Etienne queried, a hint of a sad smile playing on his face. "What else?"

Celeste stiffened and didn't reply immediately. A rather distressed-seeming woman crossed the bridge, dragging a yelling and wailing toddler by the hand and pausing, now and then, to readjust her hold on his hand and try to coax the young boy into silence. She had no attention to spare for the young man on one side of the bridge, or the silent girl on the other.

"Do dey know 'bout me?" Celeste asked suddenly.

Etienne knew that she meant the Thieves Guild.

"They know dat I'm seeing a belle fille…Tante Mattie says dat I go all silent, when I'm tinking about her and says dat da girl is a Godsend. They tink that the girl is a thief, but…or a ghost. Jean-Luc still wonders how she got in t'da Thieves Guild t'drop off mon birthday present…Theo tinks dat she doesn't exist; that ya just one of my dreams…and ya are. But I like them t'think that it's just a think dat it's a thief…"

Celeste now had a smile on her face, as Etienne has spoken so sweetly.

"Why?" she purred in reply.

"Because I still think dat she might come over one day…"

These words bit Celeste as sharply as glass, as deep as the small dagger at her belt could be thrust into a target's heart…as unstoppable as gunshots fired.

"And I wanted t'ask again…will ya?" Etienne continued, voice hopeful.

"It's not that easy…not f'you and me, Etienne."

"Everyone d'serves a secon' chance," Etienne protested.

Celeste turned casually, as if observing the distant buildings on the bayou.

"It will be easier soon," she conceded.

"Y' actually think dat Belle and y'Prince of Thieves're gonna work?" Etienne said, voice sceptical, but still, for him, hope prevailed.

"Y' think we're gonna work out?" Celeste's said simply, now looking directly at Etienne.

Etienne stood and stretched casually, as if heading home. Instead, he turned to meet Celeste's gaze directly and then walked to stand before her. He touched her hair gently and reassuringly, as her eyes widened in panic, lest someone spot the two together.

"Course we are. Adieu, mon ange, Celeste."

Celeste had stayed at the bridge until the sun had set, fingering that lock of hair Etienne had playfully tugged, before he bid her adieu. Finding resolve, she smiled and headed back to the Assassins Guild. Maybe things would be better…after the alliance, anyway.

((End Flashback))

Etienne was dead, but Celeste wasn't.Celeste couldn't let herself fade, when she had that much to live for. She was offered a second chance at life outside the guilds and she would seize it. Etienne would have wanted that…

Fuelled by this new rush of hope, Celeste seized the flagging particles of air that was her body and held them together. Recapturing the feeling of cold, of heat, of windy days in the Big Easy and humid days on the streets…she changed. For a moment, she did feel the cold and a sensation of falling…she was unconscious before she hit the water…and never registered thehands which drew her from the water…

She struggled for breath with water-logged lungs, but could not wake herself to thank the person, who breathed for her…filling her lungs with air. Her last conscious thought was registered by Jean and Storm.

'_Êtes-vous heureux maintenant, Etienne ?'_


	4. Waking up, Somewhere strange

**Psy-locke**: Back again, I am. Sorry for the delay, I've been writing in five-minute sessions! R&R please, please, please!

(0o)

Kurt sighed in relief, stepping out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam, scented with the pet shampoo that Rogue had 'jokingly' bought him. Of course, the two partial-siblings kept this a secret from most people- but it had bee recommended by none other than house (mansion, that is) doctor and fellow fuzzy-man, Doctor Henry McCoy.

Tightening the towel around his slim waist, Kurt fell lazily into bed, where he lay there lethargically. With painstaking effort, he pulled the sheets over him and closed his eyes, with another sigh of contentment. He would receive a full five hours of sleep tonight…without Danger Room, too. It was now just after two o'clock and Kurt was utterly exhausted.

They had got the girl: mission successful. There had been virtually no hitches…other than the huge, but harmless, slash across Jean Grey's midriff. The cyclone had begun to blow furiously and icy droplets of rain curtained the water. Kurt hadn't seen the actual moment of transformation. He had merely seen a girl, as if she had fallen from the rain clouds, dropped silently from the air and slipped into the water's embrace. Storm had cried out and flown to the spot and had hovered, uncertainly.

"You know you can't, 'Ro," Logan had muttered angrily, just as Kurt had ported out of the ship.

When Kurt ported directly into the dark waters, he realised why. He immediately felt the pulling down, the ocean's hunger to devour. The darkness pressed down on all sides, till he didn't know where to swim. His tail had curled around something solid and, lungs begging for air, he had ported back to the ship- closely trailed by an anguished Storm. Storm's claustrophobia had almost cost her once more. Logan had immediately turned the Blackbird for home.

"Christ," he had said, when he turned to look at the girl.

The girl was half-naked- soaked, snug-fitting black, lacy underwear her only covering. Bobby had nearly wet himself…but regained control, when it was noted that the girl chest did not rise and fall.. He performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation (the girl's heart still beating) and would later claim boastfully that it was the first kiss of his life…the girl had coughed up water, given a moan, then lapsed back into unconsciousness. Storm had, with heartbreaking tenderness, wrapped the girl in her own cloak, while inwardly berating herself for not being the one to dive into the waters…to have let the girl she had convinced to live, drown…To her immense shock, as the girl warmed up and, indeed, began to burn up, a small wound on her chest- presumably prevented from bleeding by the salty seawater- began to bleed, at first sluggishly, then quickly. Kurt had been scared…he had never watched someone die.

Kurt opened his eyes slowly then gave an involuntary shiver. He'd be having nightmares about the dark water that sought to consume him whole and dark-haired girls whose very hearts began to bleed…the clock now read ten past two. Kurt should have fallen asleep by now, by all rights. He worried about the girl. By last report, she had been stable.

"Elf. Medilab," Wolverine had tersely ordered.

This was not a direction for the sniffling mutant to grab a cough drop then hop along to bed, but to port the shaking, shivering, icy girl straight to the Medilab. As Kurt had lifted her, her eyes had opened…bright-blue and alert, but glassy…

"Leave me alone, Benoit," she had said, clearly and lucidly, and struggled.

Kurt had shrugged hopelessly then ported to the Medilab, depositing her on the bed.

"Okay, I'm leaving you alone, frauline. Da?" he had said helplessly, alerting Mr McCoy to their arrival.

"M'sorry…thought you were someone else, Julian."

She had closed her eyes after that, possibly as a result of the clear serum that the silent doctor had injected into her. Kurt hovered nearby, watching the doctor tend to the girl. Every now and then, Hank would smile at the young mutant reassuringly. The only moment, when his face had betrayed any emotion, other than calm capability, was when he removed the blood-stained cloak to reveal the small wound. His eyes had widened and he had bared his sharp teeth slightly and exhaled sharply.

"Kurt, you'd better go. We can't have you sick too," he'd said gravely, gesturing towards the door.

"Is zhe girl, alright?" Kurt had asked worriedly, still hovering nearby.

"Best go now, Kurt," Mr McCoy had said, turning his back uncharacteristically on him. "There is nothing you can do here and undoubtedly the Professor and Scott should like to here your report."

So Kurt had reported and returned to his room for a shower and to sink into his soft bed. Kurt's eyes closed and he drew the sheet over his head, sprawling on the mattress. Everything slowly darkened and all was blessedly silent.

And then someone flicked on Kurt's light. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, feeling dread about to overcome him. Surely…not here…not know…

"Thought you'd get away, huh Kurt? Too bad…get up and spill!"

"No Kitty…go away…it can wait till morning," Kurt replied plaintively to the teenage girl.

"Hey, I've been up all night and it is morning now!" Kitty replied indignantly.

Kurt moaned and drew his knees up to his chest, putting a pillow over his head. Suddenly, cold air was flowing over Kurt's fuzzy body. Kitty held his blanket in her perfectly-manicured hands.

"Oh, wow, Kurt!" Kitty yelped, lifting the blanket to cover her eyes, as if she'd never seen a guy in just a towel.

"It's two thirty in the morning," Kurt yelped, diving off the bed, before scrounging in his cupboard for a clean set of boxers. "I vasn't expecting company."

He pulled on a set of black boxers and a dark baggy shirt over his head. For an awkward moment, he bent backwards, siphoning his tail through the small hole, artfully torn in the back of all of his pants. He jumped back into bed, hoping that the incident had scared Kitty away. As Kurt pulled the cover over his head, Kitty walked over to the door and flipped the switch of his light and the room was once more dark. Kurt closed his eyes again, not alarmed that he did not hear the door slam close- after all, when did he ever use the door? Kitty probably just phased into her and Rogue's room and landed on her bed- their rooms was right under his. Kurt's eyes flicked open again, glowing yellow in the darkness.

"Don't you dare," Kurt warned the seemingly-empty room.

There was no response, not even a muffled giggle. Evidently, Kitty had left for the night. Sighing in relief, he put his head back down, turning it to check the clock: quarter till three. He faced the ceiling, but there was something in the way. Kitty's body, like some bizarre trophy animal from a hunting trip, protruded from the wall, from the waist up.

"You forced me, Kurt," she said angrily.

She dived on him and, before Kurt could port out of her grasp, was phased through the floor of his room. There was a sensation of falling, as Kitty released him and he landed with a dull thump on a bed. He sat up, eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness- strange pink-rimmed shadows fell over the walls, from where Kitty's Care Bear lamp (the pink one) glowed eerily.

"You know I can do that all night," a voice said, from nearby. "Now, you'll tell me what went during that mission, why Jean's so pissed off and what the hell has Bobby so happy. Or you shall never return to your room again."

"Kitty- you're telling you kept me up till three o'clock in the mornin' just' for gossip!" came Rogue's outraged exclamation, as she loomed from the pink-tinged darkness, from where she'd been leaning against the wall- in a half-sleeping stupor- for the last four hours.

Kitty removed the pink lampshade from the Care Bear light, bathing the room in a warming orange. In this brighter light, she posed dramatically, launching into her spiel. For someone so short and petite, she cut an intimidating figure- legs squared, hands on her waists, and a long strand of dark hair falling across her flashing eyes.

"Rogue, you know how Jean is. First thing in the morning, she'll be dropping hints about the mission- snide little comments about how _she_ was chosen and we were left behind! Do you really want her lording that over us! This is not gossip! This is for not for me- this is for the team!"

The solemnity of this speech was entirely broken when Rogue snorted suddenly, and Kitty, catching on pulled her hair from her pony tail, so she could flick her hair back in a very Jean Grey-way. She glared daggers at Rogue, then grabbed Kurt by the sleeve.

"I can't believe you guys!" Kitty said in mock-anger. "Come on Scott- let's go suck up to the Professor!"

Rogue burst into laughter and even Kurt had to smile. Kitty smiled in triumph- she'd proved her point.

"So, Kurt- tell us what happened on the mission," she said, pushing her advantage.

"Nein," Kurt said, tensing. "Keety it is morning. Logan's probably patrolling. He'll punish _me_ for being in your room."

Kitty exchanged a meaningful glance with Rogue and Rogue, rolling her eyes, complied.

"Kurt," she said softly, looking at him with dewy eyes. "Please." For good measure, she added a sly titbit for him. "Frère?"

Kurt melted on the spot, overcome with affection for what was effectively the sibling bond…despite being bonded through the dubious motherly love of Mystique.

"Alright…" he said, throwing up his hands in mock exasperation. "I'll tell you vhat I know…"

(o0) 

Dr Hank McCoy- perhaps, better known as Beast- stepped outside to be greeted by the not-so-friendly sight of Wolverine.

"You'd better not be thinking of lighting that," he said sharply.

With a scowl, which did not illicit so much as a flinch from the hulking doctor, Logan returned the cigarette he had been chewing thoughtfully to his jeans.

"How's the kid?" he queried gruffly.

Beast tilted his head slightly. The girl was fine. He had suspected that she might receive hypothermia from the cold water and the icy air, but she had seemed to weather that quite well- perhaps, part of her mutation protected her from the air temperature. She was rather emaciated and seemed to have suffered from something akin to dehydration, but that was easily remedied; after all, she hadn't been solid for over a week now. The other results, however, had been disturbing. Particularly the wound on her chest…

"Perhaps you'd better come upstairs," Beast suggested amiably. "She'll live, but I must discuss this matter with the rest of the staff…Why are you hiding down here anyway?"

Logan nodded, and then looked down either end of the hall. He sniffed the air.

"Iceboy's been sendin' the Kid to scope the place…I smell Firecracker in this too."

The Kid, of course, referred to their youngest recruit, Jaime- Multiple. Wolverine had chased him from the metal labyrinth of halls, underneath the mansion, any number of times. He was guarding the girl from Bobby, who would probably try and claim a proper 'kiss' from her. Well, that's what Logan's heightened hearing had detected, moments before a plaintive Jaime was shoved out of the elevator with a joking farewell of 'God speed and good luck.'

"Oh, I see…" Beast said amiably. "Well, I'd expect the threat is probably over, so I'll see you upstairs shortly."

Logan cocked his head and gave him a look. A look which clearly questioned whether Beast truly thought Logan would obey him.

"Or you could read the file, at the end of her bed," Beast said quickly, before fleeing upstairs.

"Right," Logan said to himself sarcastically, before retrieving his chewed-on cigar from his pocket and entering the Medilab.

(o0) 

Kitty twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Kurt was nodding off, and Rogue was drowsing, lolling on Kitty's bed- a sheet shielding her skin from Kurt's.

"I've got it!" Kitty squealed excitedly, jolting the two out of their sleepy reverie.

"Got vot?" Kurt demanded, shaking his head and scattering blue fur over the girl's beds.

Kitty glared angrily.

"Kurt! It's bad enough that half my clothes are covered by blue fur, whenever you're on laundry duty- but, gosh, my bed!"

Rogue smiled drearily- Kitty was the only person she knew, under the age of thirty-five, who said 'gosh' on a regular basis. She furrowed her brow, sleepiness made her silly.

"Got vot?" she said, mimicking Kurt's accent, remembering why she was still awake at half-past four in the morning.

Kitty jumped onto the end of the bed.

"I've got the plan, which will totally show up Grey!" she crowed. "Kurt- you're going to teleport us down there and we're going to meet the girl before everyone else! Jean will be so mad!"

"Nein, Keety. No way. Logan vill kill me."

"Fine," Kitty said, pouting. "Give Rogue your powers and we'll dump you upstairs before we go."

"No, Kitty. Ah'm not draining Kurt. He's right. Logan will catch us. He's gonna be so mad that you're gonna be running DR till breakfast and then Ah'm gonna get up, drain your energy, so I can run DR," Rogue said dangerously.

"Guys…" Kitty begged.

Kurt whispered something to Rogue, who nodded in agreement.

"Alright, Valley girl, we'll both come- only to hold this over Miss Perfect, right?" Rogue drawled, as she set the conditions.

"You guys are the greatest!" Kitty squealed excitedly, before sinking through the mattress, into her abnormally large and fluffy, pink slippers. "I swear- we'll only be in and out. Just introductions, okay?"

Kurt and Rogue could have been twins, as they exchanged equally evil smiles.

(o0) 

Logan opened his eyes with a start, as the cigar dropped out of his mouth. With lightning reflexes, he snatched it out of the air, before it hit the ground. He had fallen asleep on watch. 'You're getting slow, old man,' he chided himself with a frown. He rolled adamantium shoulders, the cracking of metal on metal echoing in the empty halls. Inside the Medilab, the lights had been dimmed- but Logan had enhanced sight anyway.

Stalking towards the entrance, he looked inside. The girl was a still as comatose; she hadn't stirred from her original position. Her eyelash flickered slightly as, in cover of darkness, dreams visited her unbidden. Logan looked at her sympathetically, wondering what troubled her. His gaze turned from her and fell upon an open folder; left by Hank, of course.

'Celeste Doe,' Logan read, with a dour smile. Typical of the doctor…he never did like to leave an empty space. 'Sex: Female, Age: Unknown.' Other than those few blanks, pertaining to her mysterious identity, it was quite a thorough report- he'd even gone so far as to record his observations of her power.

_The ability to transform her body into sentient air particles at will. Manipulation of wind and air currents. Can form 'razor' winds, of lightning-speed winds, which can cut through solid objects.. Possible control of air temperature. Possible ability to travel at incredibly high speeds._

"That's a lot of potential, Hank," Logan mused aloud to himself.

He turned the page idly, to be confronted by a close-up of a very familiar-shaped wound.

"Jesus," he swore loudly, reflexively touching the space on his chest, where the same kind of bullet had thudded into him.

_The patient seems to have suffered from a gunshot to the chest; the heat and predicted force of the projectile would expect the bullet to pass through the chest and out of the body. It is unusual that the wound ended, mere centimetres from a probably fatal piercing of the heart or major arteries. Herein may lie the explanation for the bullet, found on the twenty-third of April, of the year 2005, on the bridge in New Orleans._ _Blood tests may confirm their relations._

'Who the hell would shoot a kid?' he thought to himself. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but in his day, he didn't should children. Then again, with the anti-mutant hysteria, there had been sickening incidents of violence against infants, who, through no fault of their own, had been born with blue or red skin, with bright green hair and the yellow eyes of a hawk.

So entrenched in his thoughts, he did not note a stirring of the girl- a mere twitching of the fingers, a clenching fist driving nails into flesh.

_Bullets around her. Do something. Do something now. Evade them, turn and take them in the arm, stay still and go quickly into darkness. The bite of the bullet in the chest._

The fist unclenched and the girl whimpered slightly. Logan turned quickly.

_The sensation of change. Falling apart. Lifting. Flying. Soaring. New Orleans as she had never seen it…the different planes that she touched with ethereal fingers. The storm. The clenching hand crushing her. Then…the change…she felt the icy wind and the sensation of falling once more. All was black. She opened her eyes._

Celeste opened her eyes and shot up. She clutched at her head as her vision blurred and spun, beckoning her to unconsciousness once more. Cautiously, she opened her eyes: semi-darkness, lightly gleaming surfaces, the sterile smell of medical facilities. Belle had shot to wound, not kill. The Assassins had her again, they had to.

She began to breathe quickly, her heart beating wildly. She had to get out. She had to get out of New Orleans. In conjunction with her growing panic, a beeping- probably a heart rate monitor- began to beep rapidly. She sat up suddenly, tearing at the drip needle in her wrist. She had to be quick to even think of escaping, but she was already feeling so weak and tired.

Wolverine's attention was quickly drawn from the girl's file to the girl herself. Almost as soon as the first wafting scent of fear reached him, the girl was scrabbling out of the sheets, tearing at the drip in her wrist. The drip detached and Wolverine could smell blood. Swearing to himself, he ran over, grabbing the girl by the shoulders and trying to hold her down with minimal force.

"Relax kid," he yelled. "It's okay. We ain't gonna hurt you!"

Celeste gasped for air and weakly tried to push her assailant off. No luck…her skill was in surprise attacks, not displays of strength or brawling. But this man- this doctor? – was certainly no Cajun…and it was unlikely that the Assassins would bring in an outside doctor, for her, at least. She fell back into the bed, shaking her head free of the dancing spots in her vision. The room was dark.

A man stood over her, his arms still pinning her shoulders down.

"M'sorry doctor, I'm a bit confused," she said apologetically.

The man chuckled and stepped back from her and turned. He fiddled with something out of her sights and white lights began to hum and light the room.

(o0) 

Kitty smothered her coughs as they appeared in the dark room, some storeys beneath the mansion, in a cloud of sulphurous smoke. The room was dimly-lit and empty, but for the empty bed. Kitty looked around happily.

"Nice job, Kurt," she said appreciatively, turning to Rogue and Kurt.

Rogue and Kurt grinned in reply. Suddenly, Rogue masked a yawn with a delicate gloved hand.

"Ah'm feelin' kind f tired, Kurt," she said with barely masked malice.

"Veally?" Kurt asked in mock surprise. "Vhy is that?"

Kitty threw her hands up in pantomime frustration.

"Fine- I'm sorry I kept you guys up late to come down and thank you _so_ much. I'll only be two minutes. I SWEAR!_"_

"Ah bet your sorry," Rogue shot out, stepping away from her.

"Or you vill be if you can't get upstairs undetected," Kurt continued, grabbing Rogue's covered arm.

"You wouldn't!" Kitty gasped, seeing the look in their eyes.

"See you in Danger Room!" Rogue said cheerily, as they ported out.

"Ugh! What a pair of ingrateful jerks!"

She briefly considered running, or trying to phase through the storeys above her. No, that wouldn't work…she'd have to phase right through the Professor's room and she doubted that would sit too well with him. Hearing a noise next door, she hurried to the door, pressing her ear against it. Two voices: one low and gruff, one feminine and accented.

"Bingo," she murmured, phasing her face slightly through the door, eyes widening as she pulled back slightly, as Wolverine fiddled with some switches. "Eep!" she squeaked as the light switched on behind her and something buzzed loudly and she tumbled through the door into the Medilab.

She blinked slowly, taking in the sight of a slim, dark-haired girl, holding a sluggishly bleeding wrist and a wide-eyed Wolverine, who gave a snort of derision at her appearance.

"Danger Room, Half-Pint," he said almost sympathetically, but his expression wasn't.

"I'm Kitty Pryde!" she shot to the bed-ridden girl, who still looked at her in disbelief.

"Merde," Celeste murmured- almost certain that the girl had fallen through a solid door.

The short, hulking man walked back over to her.

"Sorry kid, this ain't no hospital and I sure as hell ain't a doctor."


	5. This e'nt no ordinary school

**A/N:** I apologise for the lateness of this but…you see…I TYPED UP A HUGE CHAPTER AND THEN LOST IT! I am really private with my family, so I put the text to size one, I changed the colour to white, I put it in superscript and then I put it into Webdings, just to confuse any potential nosy siblings or parents! But, alas, something went wrong and I was left with seven pages of squares- as neat as can be. However, I shalt soldier on, for the sake of later, planned chapters, which will be ever so exciting!

(0o)

Shadowcat gave a cry of surprise, before diving to the side and rolling, as the mechanical weapon fired, rubber bullets thudding where she had just been kneeling, gasping for breath. A panel in the wall whirred open, signalling a new wave of automatic weaponry- metallic arms, each bearing high-tech weaponry, which, if given the chance, would inflict some extremely painful (though, as a rule, not debilitating) bruises and scratches. Kitty dropped straight to the ground, as a metal disc cut through the air over her, before thudding into the wall behind her, now scrap metal.

Exhaustion slowing her reflexes, she barely managed to dodge the second disc, which followed in the shadow of the first. And she didn't dodge the next volley of gunfire either.

Instead, she sank straight into the ground. There was an almost eerie silence, punctuated by the crackling of electricity and the mechanical buzz of weapons, as they turned this way and that, seeking their elusive prey.

In the Control Room, staring over the shoulder of the man, Logan, Celeste held her breath. She held her breath for five seconds, ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty secon-

Kitty head then arms appeared, as she dove through the wall, her hands dragging through the mechanical ones. She gasped for air, just as Celeste gasped in somewhat shared triumph. Diving through the wall back into the room, Kitty ran along the walls, arms phasing through the electrical circuits and what bullets and other projectiles that came to her, merely impacted the wall on either side. Destruction was in her wake. There would be the crackling of electricity, before the weapon would explode outwards in a blast of heat and energy.

She cut a small figure, from where Celeste stood, dumbfounded. That petite figure stopped and gave the Control Room a 'thumbs up', as red lights flashed, signalling the end of the simulation. Logan gave a grunt of what could have been approval, when a wry smile twisted onto his face. With a vindictive pleasure, he examined the buttons on the control panel. He pressed a square one, labelled Q18. In the Danger Room, the lights flickered on and off.

The floor began to fall away.

Shadowcat looked around in evident confusion. She saw the ground, which fell away from her. She ran. The chasm chased her, gaping hungrily, but Kitty kept running for the wall. Celeste saw what she wanted to do; after all, the walls still stood, though the floor fell away. Kitty could simply jump into a wall and glare from there. But things never go as expected.

The floor behind Kitty was empty. The floor in front of her began to fall away as well.

She managed to find an extra bit of speed and, reaching what seemed to be the final square in the room, dived across the chasm, arms outstretched for the wall. She gave a wail as she fell short and fell down…down into infinity. Or, that's what she thought. Instead, she landed heavily on her chest, seeming to be partially submerged in the floor, the darkness pooling around her waist.

Wolverine chuckled deeply and the lighting returned to normal. In that bright white light, Celeste could see, barely two feet below what appeared to be the entrance to the bottomless pit, the true floor of the room. It had merely been lowered and the lights, dulled, had concealed the fact that the floor was, in fact, still there.

"A hologram? That's gotta have a lot of pixels to come out that clear…" Celeste observed, almost to herself.

"Yep," Logan affirmed, giving her an odd look. "Courtesy of the hippy with the tool-box arm."

Celeste shook her head to herself- she didn't get things around here. This was a school…teaching students to survive high-tech battles. Yet, she didn't think that she'd be too out of place…

((Flashback))

_Five children stood upright…but barely. If one looked past the burning fire in their eyes and clenched, determined jaws…one could see the whimper, building in their throats and threatening to escape. The legs shook slightly and their faces were pale. Their feet ached…they had been standing all night…thirteen - or was it fifteen?- hours. The thin beams of wood, placed on blocks, their base. They had stood there, perching, as the hours ticked by. The potential elite assassins, those children selected from the training program, were being cut and culled…not literally, of course. They were subjected to tests that not ordinary child would be able to endure…in fact, it has been four hours till the first child had been unable to keep her ground._

_Endurance and concentration. Concentrate on maintaining your balance; subtly shift your weight when the pain becomes unbearable. Stay awake and swallow the cries of pain as the fluids build up in your shaking legs and your head begins to nod slightly in that dim, silent room._

_Five children left; five of twenty. The carpet was covered in the bricks and thin beams of wood. One by one, they had given up…_

_Some had whimpered and, alerting the attention of the supervisor, and had been pointed at. The child who allowed noise to escape him or her was one which would go home in shame. Others, who had not mastered the subtle movements to decrease the pain, had buckled at the knees, collapsing onto the floor and clutching their feet, calves or thighs as hot blood rushed through them. They would be pointed at. There were also those that simply stepped down and left the room._

_And there were those who breathed slow and steadily, ignoring the stabbing pains and fatigue. Those who endured the night. These would become the elites…the favoured of the guild. And there would be only four._

_Celeste could feel tears pricking the backs of her eyes and blinked rapidly, focussing once more on the steady ticking of the clock. She allowed herself a slight sway, letting the blood rush into her legs- not too much. She had seen the boy in front of her sway a little, then steadily widen his circle, before tumbling onto the ground. _

_Benoit, the dog, had stood behind her the whole night. Now and then, he would blow out a silent breath; causing goosebumps to raise on her neck…he knew that she hated people standing behind her. He had failed to endear himself to her, ever since she'd come…or, perhaps, he had done an extremely poor job of it. Benoit was an annoyance to her…the boy, on the verge of manhood, but still teetering in pubescence, had followed her around since Marius had attached her to Belle and put her into training._

_Training…she would let Marius Boudreaux, her mentor and patron, down, if she failed. Belle and Julien, in front of her, were unnervingly still, poised in the very same position as they had started in the early evening of the previous day. She had no idea how Benoit, behind her, fared- but he had long since quit his game of blowing on the back of her neck. Another young man, who she thought was called Victor, teetered for a moment- he was standing by Belle. Knowing his chance was up, his arms grabbed at the air and found Belle's arm. A movement…long ago taught by another assassin…a twist of the arm and the wrenching of bone. A piercing scream as a limb was dislocated. _

_Celeste flinched and almost went to cover her ears. Instead, moments later, a smile curved over her features. With Victor's demise, came her triumph. The supervisor pointed at Victor, who, stifling sobs, departed._

"_Step down. Look around. You are the elite team."_

_Belle and Julien, heirs of the Assassin's Guild, turned to survey the remaining to. Julien smiled and went to clap Benoit on the shoulder, while Celeste and Belle stared one another down. Belle tossed blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled at Celeste. _

"_Tres belle, Celeste," she said softly and warmly, offering her hand._

"_And you, Belladonna," Celeste had replied accepting the peace offering._

_It was the first time Belle had said her name._

((End Flashback))

"Don't touch that!"

Celeste withdrew her hand from the control panel as if stung. She had, as she recalled her own eccentric training, running her hands down the contours of the large control panel of the Danger Room with professional interest. She had, never in her life, seen such an assortment of buttons: glowing and dull, square and round, labelled and, ominously, unlabelled. There was even that tantalising 'big red button', in a glass case.

"M'sorry," she mumbled, humbly tucking her hands, red and raw, into the pockets of her borrowed clothes.

She was wearing a plain, black singlet top and black slacks, which were slightly baggy on her thin, 'stick' legs. She had had a brief look at her reflection and, to her abject horror, she was pale, her eyes rimmed with darkness, despite her near-comatose state. She could swear to herself she'd lost weight. All in all, she didn't look very healthy, strong, or able to fight. She'd have to regain her strength, if she wanted to be able to defend herself from any foes…

"Can I have a go at that, monsieur Logan?" she asked suddenly and Logan looked at her, as if she was somewhat stupid.

"Kid, you ain't in the state to climb a ladder. You want to do this kinda stuff, you gotta train hard," he looked at her appraisingly and Celeste blushed, embarrassed and angry in anticipation of the next comment. "And you got a bit of runty look about you- real skinny. Half-Pint there had to do a hell of a lot of work to keep up with this and you look like you've never had to fight for anything."

Celeste's eye twitched, betraying her anger, but she kept her face neutral. Logan could smell this anger, no matter how well she concealed it…she reeked of it. She reeked of privilege as well, despite her week of missing time. She smelt like clean linen and silk, of undetectable perfumes and makeup and the smells that made up any Cajun…the swampy smells of the bayou, covered by the musk of rich girl's lifestyle. These scents were undetectable to the human nose, but to his heightened senses, he thought he knew her life story. He breathed in again, some animal part of him relishing that anger…he detected the scent of blood. Not the blood that pulsed below her skin, or that stained the bandage, barely concealed by her singlet. Old blood…and the one, whose blood had been spilt, had been angry at the time too.

"You bleedin'?" Logan asked her. "You got blood on you? I smell it."

Celeste had a vision of her hands soaked in blood again and thought desperately of going back to the Medilab and washing her hands until the blood had gone…she shoved her hands, raw from scrubbing, into her pockets.

"Non," she said, with a scowl.

Then something occurred to her- she was a mutant, right? Maybe she could…or was that just stupidity. She didn't think it was possible to exert control over something so entirely foreign to her. Wind. Air. Grab control of them and mould and shape them to her will? She had better luck moulding rock into a clay vase.

'Stupid idea.'

She looked up as the Control Room door opened.

"Why don't you try?" a deep, refined voice said.

The man's very presence demanded respect. His eyes looked through her and Celeste's mind quailed in response. He was bald. He was irreparably crippled and wheelchair-confined…he had looked right into her head.

"Why don't you try?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow, as if in challenge. "You devastated a city and travelled hundreds of miles on the air's current…surely you can erase your scent."

Celeste's eyes flickered from Xavier's (for the man was certainly Professor Charles Xavier, who she had been told was a telepath) to Logan's. Logan's eyes were slightly unfocussed and Celeste looked from one to the other, comprehending. She didn't like this. It was worse than someone right behind her in the darkness…this man could see her. Really see her.

"How?" she asked bluntly.

"Show me what you can do," Xavier said pleasantly enough. "Stir me up a breeze, change to wind…or, if you wish for a challenge, I believe that young Bobby Drake left a paper plane on the first floor. Perhaps you could retrieve it."

Celeste gaped.

"Don't push her, Chuck," Logan said, shrugging. "She ain't shown any powers at all…"

Celeste shut her mouth abruptly.

'I got power…of course I do!'

She shot Logan, who was yawning, a look of contempt. She had been testing this, since she'd first woken up. She'd discovered she could stir a bit of wind if she tried and somewhat sense the area around her, in terms of shapes, surfaces and planes…she had attributed this to a mild sense of paranoia…or a bad case of insanity. But she could humour her own fevered mind.

She, tentatively, attempted to move the wind around her and, to her shock, she felt the wind caress her skin and ruffle her loose hair. She recalled the infinite freedom of disembodied flight and the feeling of New Orleans…of being the wind in the trees and knowing intimately each alley way and street. She exhaled and she felt that breath join the air, before being caught in a slight draught from beneath the door seal. She inhaled and felt the air fill her lungs, before dissipating and joining the outside air current.

Professor Charles Xavier watched her with intent. He had been against this approach, but both Storm and Wolverine had been able to sense something in her, which feared her powers. Which feared to lose humanity again. Logan had sensed her easy anger and had suggested using this as a trigger for the use of her powers. He felt the air in the room stir.

"That all you got, kid?" Logan said, enjoying his role. "You stink of fear. Did we get the wrong kid, Chuck?"

Celeste actually snarled and she recaptured that first feeling. Air exploded outwards, in all directions, and Celeste's senses with it. She was with the wind, but she wasn't it. She could sense the walls and floor and ceiling and the paintings and the texture of the paintings as she rushed through the building.

'First floor, heh?'

She was rushing through, under doors, doors exploding outward, a deluge of wind. She felt a long-haired girl and gangling boy jump aside and press against the wall of the hall away from her. She found the shape she was looking for…a piece of paper which caught her attention…and in that moment, she was returning. The door of that room (presumably the aforementioned Bobby Drake) exploded outwards and the wind was withdrawn back into the Control Room and there were papers swirling around, caught in the withdrawing of the tide. Celeste's eyes flickered open and she snagged a single paper plane from the small whirlwind that surrounded her.

Realising what she had done, the winds receded. The floor of the control room was covered in papers and what looked to be a curtain that had torn from a window.

"Merde," she whispered in shock, staring at the unharmed paper aeroplane, that she still held.

"Indeed."

Professor Charles Xavier approached her slowly, then held out his hand. Understanding, Celeste placed the paper plane onto it.

"Welcome to the Institute, Celeste. I'm sure you'll fit right in- that is," he paused expertly, "if you'd like to stay."

Celeste weighed up her options immediately. Leave this place (wherever it was) and try to disappear, carve a life for herself. Turn up in any major city of the world and get a knife in the back or hit in the back of the head and sent on a one-way journey to the Assassins' Guild Head Quarters in New Orleans, in return for a hefty bounty. End up freaking out and lose control of her 'powers'…again. Perhaps, if that time came, there would be no rescue….no call to arms.

Etienne had told her to get out of there and Celeste knew he wasn't only talking about the bayous of the South. He had meant the Guild…the life she had been unwittingly drawn to- a life, yes, she had enjoyed and been skilled in- but a life she didn't want to belong to. Perhaps here, perhaps now, perhaps even the future- this Institute could be sanctuary for her.

"Oui, I might stick around for a while…see de sites round here…?"

"Bayville, New York," Logan offered helpfully.

"There is, of course, the issue of contacting your guardians…" Xavier said carefully.

"Mon pere's out of de country- uncontactable. My mom's…uncontactable too. If dis is about de funds, I can handle them."

Again, that critical looks, as if he gauged her honesty. Celeste had told untruths, not lies…there was a difference, of course.

"I shall see what I can do," he offered, "but, in the meantime, I think we'll have to see to you receiving some things…clothes, for instance. Students board here, but attend Bayville High School. They'll be returning to school within a couple of days."

"Are they on break still?" Celeste asked in surprise.

"No…I'm afraid that, as Bayville is a 'mutant hotspot', mutant hysteria had very much peaked. It is with the school's principal-"

"Anti-mutant bastard," Logan filled in.

"- _kind_ permission that the rest of the students can return to the school."

"Oh," Celeste acknowledged.

Most people had, of course, known that now and then, a child would be born with strange abilities…branded a 'mutant'. In the South, mutancy had been no great secret and in the Big Easy, where anyone could be anything, there were relatively accepted- by most people, anyway. Celeste had to admit that, before her own powers had revealed themselves and she discovered that she wasn't quite as human as she believed- the idea of mutants had irked her. No doubt supported by the stories of _Diable Le Blanc_. The Assassins' Guild had played host to other mutants of particular skill…she had seen them come in for a briefing once and had watched them from the shadows of the hall. She had thought she had been all but invisible. As the mutant group left, one turned around and took the dark hood shading her face down. She had winked at her, one eye normal and the other gleaming in the middle of a large black mark that was no tattoo. Celeste, only fourteen at the time, had sworn and run off, seeking Belle (they had forged a firm friendship, since she had passed the elite test). The laughter of the mutant girl- only three or four years older than herself- had followed her.

Xavier turned to Logan and wheeled over to the clear window of the Control Room.

"Will you put her through it with the rest of the team again?" Xavier inquired of Logan.

"Nah, Half-Pint's got the routine down. I'll put her to cleanin' the Blackbird for a while."

"I've a better idea…Kitty can act as Celeste's guide for a while. She can take her to the Mall to buy clothes…or whatever they do these days. Is that acceptable to you?"

Celeste winced inwardly. Before she had found herself in New Orleans, she had been through a flurry of different schools…this was the mandatory 'enforced buddy', typical of any new place. However, it was necessary. She could surely suffer it.

"Non, no problems at all…" she said with a pained smile.

"Excellent!" he replied briskly. "I'll have Ms Monroe escort you to her room."

"Ms Monroe…?"

"Perhaps you might better know me as Storm, child," the tall, elegant figure in the doorway said, beckoning her.

Celeste turned then immediately lowered her head humbly. It was her- the white-haired, weather-witch, who had been made privy to her thoughts, her memories…her very mind. But how much did she know? Biting her lip nervously, she walked towards Storm. Remembering her manners, she turned around again.

"Thank you, Professor Xavier and…Mr Logan," she said gushingly, before turning around again.

'An interesting child,' Xavier observed silently to Logan.

'I don't think we even scratched the surface, Chuck,' came the reply.

Celeste followed Storm, a couple of feet behind her and one more to her right. She still chewed nervously on her lip. Storm realised she could actually sense the anxiety pouring off the girl…and it was directed at her.

"What troubles you?" she asked, pausing to allow Celeste to catch up.

Celeste looked up in surprise. She could have of course gone with the 'just a little nervous' or something along those lines- but she decided to be a little more forward.

"You were in my head, weren't you?"

Storm nodded, expecting this.

"You were as much in my head, too."

"How? You a telepath too, mam?" Celeste asked, looking at her suspiciously through lowered eyelashes.

"Oh, no! I have my suspicions as to how the event occurred and Charles's opinion had substantiated that. You see, I too, have the power over nature. Although you seem able to control the wind and air, I am able to call the clouds and wield lightning and thunder to my will…but your control- when you are trained, anyway- will probably exceed me in control of those other elements."

Celeste nodded, rapt.

"I was sent with the rest of the X-Men to New Orleans- freak winds had torn through there. People were injured, but none seriously," Storm said comfortingly. "Cerebro- a machine built by Charles and…a colleague- detected your new mutant signature, but your physical body was intangible, so we left empty-handed. As we left, I quelled the winds and, I felt almost a resistance…odd, but I was able to send the winds away, to the north…indeed, I may have initiated this 'link' between us. Do you remember?"

Celeste pursed her lips in careful thought. The moment of change, of being torn into a hundred million pieces and release. A tempest rage and the fearful thrill of rushing with the wind…then, the feeling of comfort. Of being told by a motherly figure to quieten and leave…a dismissal of sorts. After that, Celeste only remembered words exchanged and memories of times past…

"How much d'you know about me?" she said suddenly, nails sinking into her palms.

'I know only as much as you chose to share.'

This voice was that of Storm. Echoing in her mind.

'Thank you,' she thought, aiming for Storm in what she hoped was a loud way of thinking.

Down the hall from them, there was a dull thump as Jean stood abruptly, as the voice hit her too. It _had_ been a _very_ loud thought.

"Great," she grumbled at her reflection in the mirror, putting down her brush. "Someone who projects as loudly as Rogue. Still…"

Jean flashed her reflection a winning smile, ran the brush a final time through her long mane, before slipping through her door and heading down the hall. A quick telepathic scan of the area revealed Storm and the new girl walking up the main stairway, seemingly engaged in conversation.

"…and the X-Men respond to such events. It is Charles's dream to create a-"

"Ororo!" Jean called out, walking slowly towards them. "Is that the new recruit?"

Celeste raised an eyebrow at this willowy beauty, who strode confidently towards them.

"Yes, this is the new recruit," Celeste added in a low voice, which seemed to carry.

"Celeste, this is Jean Grey, a former student and teacher at the Institute….in fact, one of the founding members of the original X-Men," Storm offered.

Jean seemed to swell with pride at this. Boldly, she placed a gentle hand on Celeste's arm, commandeering her and leading her up the stairs. Celeste flashed a desperate glance to Storm, who raised a hand to cover the smile growing on her lips.

"You're going to love it here, trust me. Scott- his codename's Cyclops- and I are kind of the official team leaders…where are you headed now?"

"Kitty's room-" Storm said, trailing the two younger women.

"Her codename's Shadowcat," Jean said knowledgably, nodding.

"Really? And what's your codename, _Miss Grey_?"

Jean tilted her head at this and gave a sweet tinkling laugh- but a slight blush touched her cheeks. It seemed that this woman (whose powers had yet to be revealed) didn't have a codename….but Celeste was sure that she'd be called by many names.

"We won't bother with all those details until we get you settled in…we can pick you a codename too…" she said, somewhat wistfully.

They paused outside what seemed to be the door of Kitty Pryde. Storm caught up.

"Jean, Celeste has been attached to Kitty for a while. The Professor wants her to Celeste to pick up some gear at the Mall."

"Oh, when does your gear get here?" Jean said guilelessly.

"It won't be getting here for a while…" Celeste replied distastefully.

'As in never,' she thought to herself. Jean's critical gaze caught her own and Celeste realised that, without a doubt, this girl had just read her mind.

"You were the mutant from New Awlins, right? What happened there?"

Celeste opened her mouth to tell Miss Perfect-Hair-Teeth-And-Clothes exactly what extent of the matter was her business, when hands seized her shoulders, pulling her backwards. She caught a glimpse of Storm winking, Jean looking surprised and then, after a horrible cold, sucking sensation, she fell back through the door, as the wooden panels fell away from her. In midair she twisted, reflex from years of training, to land on her chest and hands, slapping the ground to look up at her rescuer.

The petite Kitty Pryde offered her a finely-manicured hand, which Celeste accepted. Despite being just a little shorter than Celeste, Celeste already held a great respect for the girl, borne, perhaps, from watching her performance in the 'Danger Room'.

"Bonjour, and thank you," she exclaimed, brushing her borrowed clothes off needlessly.

"That's totally cool…I'd save Magneto from having to talk to Jean!"

Celeste smiled back, warming to her. She just handed expected someone so innately…_bubbly_.

"I'm Celeste,' she offered.

Kitty nodded then pointed to her own head.

"Yeah, the Prof got the message to me. I'm Kitty- Katherine Pryde, that is."

Celeste nodded in acknowledgement, before looking around the immaculately clean side of the room she was in to the decidedly more comfortable side of the room, with a marked absence of pink and clothes scattered on the floor. She stood their a little awkwardly; she had hoped Storm would come in and help her with this…it didn't feel right to just ask someone to take her shopping.

"Y'know…" she began, but was cut off.

"I get to take you _shopping_!" she nearly squealed in excitement- in fact, she did a little twirl of delight, brown ponytail whipping around, which Celeste barely slid away from.

Celeste looked at the girl in surprise, as she suddenly sobered. She was now staring at her critically, as if she was an unsatisfactory piece of meat. Celeste's eyes flickered to her clothing, as if perhaps she'd spilt some of the food that the hulking blue doctor she had met, Mr McCoy, onto herself.

"You can't be seen in the Mall like that," Kitty declared, somewhat faintly. "It really does nothing for human-mutant relations…"

"What?"

But Celeste was ignored, as Kitty began a flurry of activity. She now went through the neatly-folded clothes in the dresser closest to the door. She was muttering to herself, as she assessed each item of clothing, before dismissing it.

"I guess you'd be my size in tops…thank God for that…but you'd probably be Rogue's size for jeans and stuff…I just don't know about shoes…Here, put this on."

Kitty threw a white singlet, with thin spaghetti straps to her…the bottom hem was lacy. With the practised tact with one, who had shared a room with unfamiliar faces before, Celeste turned to face the corner and change, while Kitty meticulously replaced her clothes. Behind Celeste, Kitty strode determinedly to the other side of the room and began burrowing through the cupboard, tossing unfolded clothes into a pile by the dresser. With a small 'hmph' of triumph, she tossed a pair of plain, dark denim jeans back towards Celeste, who accepted them. A pair of clog-like sandals were sent her way and rejected, and she chose a pair of plain sneakers instead.

"You'll do now…" Kitty said in satisfaction. "Hey- have you got a driver's licence?"

The intensity of that question, though asked rather flippantly, was remarkable. Celeste chose to answer carefully.

"Non…that'd be with my other stuff…" Celeste said, with a shrug.

"Oh," Kitty said in understanding, if not a little disappointment. "We'll bring Rogue then- I mean look at her stuff…there's nothing bright!"

Celeste concealed a smile behind a fine hand…she suspected that she and Rogue would get along well. They wore the same kind of stuff…well, Celeste's was a little more practical, more professional than just being described as 'Gothic'. What had Etienne once jokingly called her…a reject from the _Matrix_ movies?

"Let's go!" Kitty said in delight, snagging a pink jacked off the back of the chair and dropping straight through the floor.

Celeste shook her head and made for the door, then gave a yelp of shock as a laughing Kitty popped back up to drag her through the floor.

(o0)

Lance sat on the edge of the fountain, an exhausted sigh escaping him. And, of course, as if with practiced urgency, anyone else sitting on or around that fountain found business elsewhere. This had been a bad idea….of course, it had been Wanda's idea. Wanda's latest idea of fun was dragging someone to the mall and strutting around, watching the human folk stare and run in fear, as if she, nasty mutant as she was, would glare at them so that they'd burst into flame…hell, she probably could, if she wanted to. Wanda was stocking up on edibles and makeup and Lance was her packhorse.

In truth, Lance hated it.

He hated the fact that he had smiled at a girl his age and she had stopped dead, before making a beeline for the exit, pale and clammy. He hated the fact that mothers and fathers clutched their toddlers to them, as he walked past. He hated that they feared and despised mutants, simply for being born. Of course, the Brotherhood of Mutants had not quite endeared themselves to the public as well as the X-Men and even they were copping the same treatment. Still, he hated it. And that was why Lance was prepared to dedicate himself to Magneto's cause…to give those humans a _real_ reason to fear them, to earn the way they were treated. No, the humans would learn to respect the next step in evolution. They would realise their place, Lance though furrowing his brow.

"Boo," drawled Wanda, bright red lips close to Lance's ear.

Lance exclaimed in shock, hand slipping to delve beneath the water's surface.

"Jeez Wanda…what's with you?" Lance said, wiping his hand on his rough jeans.

Apparently, playing 'scare the humans' was what it took to get Wanda in a good mood…either that or the variety of new shopping bags that she held in her straining wrist.

"Should've been watching your back, Lance," Wanda said, with a shrug. "Or were you watching someone else's back?"

Lance followed her gaze and caught his breath. Kitty Pryde- his first love…walking with Rogue and another girl.

"I didn't even know she was there…" Lance said gruffly. "Who's the new geek?"

Wanda shrugged, glaring at them. Rogue, surprisingly, was laughing at the antics of the girl in the middle- the stranger- who was telling a story, supported by wide hand gestures, which caught people's attention. Rogue's husky, but bright laughter carried…Kitty seemed to pouting and protesting…something about being 'not that bad of a driver' and 'phased through him, didn't I'? Lance swallowed and tore his gaze away.

"Who cares?" Wanda said, gesturing for him to pick up the bags. "Doesn't look that strong….maybe one of them just got a dye job and a haircut."

'And a boob job and height increase,' Lance thought to himself. 'Those are Kitty's jeans…and shoes!'

"That's Rogue's top she's wearing," Wanda suddenly commented then blushed at Lance's surprised stare. "So the girl knows how to dress? Sue me…"

Lance mind added two and two together…since he'd actually started attending school (in accordance to the agreement struck up with Principal Kelly) he'd been surprised to find that, although he didn't feel smarter, he was able to find these connections. New girl, borrowed clothes, at the mall…this girl hadn't had the time or opportunity to pack and she was buying new stuff. He made a mental note of this, but knew Pietro would claim the idea as his own.

"We'll let Magneto know about this new mutant…he won't have it on record," Lance said decisively, picking up Wanda's bags and thanking God that she didn't shop at places that sold pink clothes in pinker bags.

"Whatever…I'll let Pie know…" Wanda said lazily.

As he followed her out to his Jeep, Lance craned his neck to look for the three girls…in particular, his pretty Kitty. He could have sworn that he saw a flash of brown hair in a ponytail, narrowly dodged by an old woman, as it whipped into the store. He sighed and cast his eyes down.

Wanda gave Lance a strange look, but sweetish smile, before glaring at a car, which she'd seen the X-Men using before. She made sure to discretely hex the braking system as she left.

(0o)

A/N: Wow…long word count. I'd be really getting this out more quickly if it weren't for that darn entertaining YouTube!


	6. A Testing of Power

A/N: Hmmm…although I'll keep on writing- if only for my own benefit- I WOULD be _extremely_ appreciative of any reviews. In fact, for every review that I receive, I will review three other stories- and that's a promise! Oh and if you like to skip chapters, there a quick review of events at the bottom of the story…the long, long, long story…If any experience fanfic writers review, I'd appreciate any advice on how I might split such a chapter.

(o0)

Jubilee barely concealed a snicker at the wistful expression on Bobby's face, as Kurt was admitted into the room he had been waiting outside. Bobby seemed to caught somewhere between childish curiosity and adolescent fantasy…but for all the success he had a hope for, he may as well have been mooning over Magneto. _Everyone_ in the Institute knew that Kitty and Rogue's room was taboo- untouchable, enter at one's own peril. The only reason that there would not be one seriously-drained elf phased half-phased through a wall was the newly-discovered, dubious tie of kinship that he and Rogue shared. The three mutants, part of the original team of X-Men, were a tightly-knit group. It was all the more astounding that the new girl, despite being of an age with them, had been so readily accepted.

Bobby continued intently staring at the door, preparing to appeal to what he considered 'his damsel in distress', should she exit.

He saw it now. She would enter the hallway, take one look at him with adoring, dark eyes, before thanking him profusely for saving his life…Bobby had a thing for girls with dark hair and eyes, especially if they fawned on him. In truth, had not Celeste been obliged to be polite in her relative newness to the place, she would have glared at him with flashing blue eyes and had him begging for mercy.

He peered at the door still, willing it to open; Jubilee tapped a shoe impatiently, Bobby had notes from English she needed to cajole out of him- they might be helpful in starting the assignment due tomorrow and she knew that Wolvie- beloved though he was- would give her a hard time if he caught her slacking again.

Kitty Pryde was also one of Bobby's targets…possibly because she was the least intimidation of the older students and barely taller than him. He thought she always addressed him in a tone, warmer than that she directed to others. He even fancied that she reserved that cheeky smile and wink for him alone.

"…to Bobby. Earth to Bobby- do you read me?"

Jubilee emphasised the point with a well-practiced swipe at the back of his head. Bobby, feigning mortal injury, pouted sulkily and prepared to return some equally plaintive comeback. Jubilee pressed a finger to his lips, sealing them. A cheeky smile curved over her lips, slicked over with bubblegum lip-gloss.

"Jubes…?" he said hesitantly, eyes wide.

"Don't be such a whiner, Iceboy," she said, before flicking her finger upwards to tap him sharply on the nose.

She gave him a feisty wink, with smouldering dark eyes, before laughing at his expression and running down the hall, dark hair flicking by him. There was the familiar sound of the young, Asian girl jumping down the stairs two at a time then a heavy thump as she skipped the last five or six stairs entirely. Bobby raised a hand to touch his lips ruefully…how did she always manage to silence him like that? He knew the other guys thought he was absolutely whipped for the mallrat, but he had never thought of her as anything more than a comrade in pranks, team member and rival to the death. A wicked grin curved over his expression; in revenge, he'd take Jubilee's maths assignment and copy out all her notes and let her sweat until just before she received another detention on Monday…unbeknownst to him, sweet Jubilation had just lifted his English assignment from his bag and stowed it in her own. And that was for not chasing her.

(0o)

Logan's chest heaved, as he exited the Danger Room, grabbing a towel completely inadequate for drying his pooling sweat. He enjoyed taking his pent up energy out on the Danger Room and, more often than not, he'd come out the victor at the highest levels of Danger Room. Then again, an intimate knowledge of the machinations did come somewhat in handy- and who was he to put himself at a disadvantage?

'Logan.'

He twitched spontaneously- the scentless and soundless presence of the Professor all around him. He casually flicked the soiled towel over and onto his shoulder.

'What can I do for ya, Chucky?' he sent back.

'Are you able to come up to my office? There's something I want to show you.'

Logan shook his hair, beads of sweat splattering the sterile hall walls.

'Just a sec- gotta get cleaned up.'

'Please, don't- you may need to run Danger Room again.'

Logan furrowed his brow. It was a Sunday and Charles, although he subscribed to no particular religion, always took it to be a day of rest- so, of course, the students were only put through one run of DR in the late afternoon. It was only two o'clock in the afternoon now. He turned and began heading towards the elevator, which would take him to the main part of the mansion.

'What's up?' he sent curiously.

'Please come to my office.'

The link was broken and Logan stepped into the elevator. Soon after, dodging the arguing Bobby and Jubilee, who reeked of teenage pheromones, he stepped into the lavishly-furnished room. His eyes narrowed, focussing on the coffee table, by which Xavier was seated.

"What's this shit?" he growled, bristling at the sight.

The table had a clean blue sheet spread out on it. And, on that sheet, an array of small, but lethal, weapons was spread. To the side, in a box, was what appeared to be an array of torn garments. Throwing knives, a silver-embellished gun, bullets of a fine make…in a small packet, to the side, were three bullets. Two crushed, as if hitting something solid, and the other blood-stained, but otherwise unmarked.

"This is the arsenal and clothing gathered from the bridge in New Orleans, where Cerebro first detected Celeste's powers awakening. I suspect that this gear belongs to the girl…"

Gingerly, Logan picked up a knife, he touched it to his finger and winced as it cut him, only for that same cut to seal within moments. He hadn't even pressed it…the knife was razor sharp and held deadly intent.

"The wind kid carried this stuff?"

"Yes. I would like to find out for certain whether this girl may be a threat to the other students," Charles said, revealing the purpose of the meeting.

"Why didn't ya tell me 'bout this stuff?" Logan growled, putting the knife back down. "She's been going off the Rogue and Kitty…she's upstairs right now! You didn't think that a kid carrying a pistol and knives could actually be a threat? What were you thinking, Chuck?"

It seemed that Logan was prepared to storm off upstairs to Rogue and Kitty's protection, but Charles spoke.

"I thought that you could be a better judge of character if you didn't know what the girl has been in the past…I'm surprised. You seem perfectly inclined to jump to conclusions, when your past hasn't exactly been the path to sainthood. Besides, I could not turn the girl down, when we sought her out first," he bowed his head. "And this evidence would seem to point out that the girl's past hasn't exactly been an ordinary child's- there is no record of her birth, or anything else, that I have been able to access- she turned up in a number of countries as a young child, but goes off the map, after arriving in Louisiana."

Logan hesitated. Charles was right; he was being hasty and all too prepared to judge.

"So what do you want me to do, Chuck?" he questioned sardonically. "Sit her on my knee and find out if she's been off sticking people with knives?"

"I would hope that you would seek to connect with the girl…perhaps, as you have with Rogue and Jubilee in particular."

Both Rogue and Jubilee came from difficult backgrounds…Rogue, foster daughter of Mystique, the chosen one of Apocalypse, one who had been barely pulled back from the brink of insanity and despair- she could never know the touch of another. Jubilee…a runaway orphan from juvenile detention, a thief and a young fighter. And this girl, Celeste, would have fit into that group nicely…a mysterious girl without a known past, but a hell of a taste for good-quality weaponry.

"Danger Room, right? See what she knows and what she needs to learn…get her used to those powers of hers…" Logan mused.

"Exactly," Charles said with a smile. "I'll have Storm on hand, should Celeste have difficulty controlling her powers."

"Report to ya later, Chuck."

"Of course, Logan."

(0o)

Celeste blushed humbly, turning her face from Kurt, who nursed what promised to be a black eye. She was a little ashamed of the way she had reacted, when, with a loud crack and cloud of sulphuric smoke, the young blue mutant- also called Nightcrawler- had appeared in Rogue and Kitty's room with no warning whatsoever, In fact, Kurt had appeared right behind her, as she turned to put another armful of shopping bags onto Kitty's somewhat crowded bed. She wondered why neither Kitty or Rogue had reacted. A reflex, built into her like her inherent paranoia and constant wariness, had triggered. She had stiffened and in that moment, she had weighed her choices, unconscious of the fact that she wasn't working the house of some rich criminal, or base of government organisation, but a simple school: roll forward over the bed, hit the ground, head up, target in sight with her weapon….which she no longer possessed. Instead, she had whirled around, brought her knee up to wind the stock-still figure, before pummelling the youth of her own age in his right eye.

He had ported away, into the corner of the room, to hide, wheezing behind an equally shocked Kitty and Rogue, who wore a strange expression on her face, as she looked at the girl, whose eyes had widened in shock and horror at her own actions. Celeste's face had flushed and she automatically murmured something apologetic and self-demeaning in French. There had been an uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the gasps of the furry blue mutant and then Kitty had lightly slapped Kurt, laughingly admonishing him for scaring the 'new girl'. Kurt had straightened up and laughed, rubbing his eye ruefully, no other signs of the injury dealt to him.

Celeste had touched her still-clenched fist in confusion- of course, his stomach had felt hard and rippled with muscles…he was by no means that vulnerable to a simple knee to the stomach… at least the punch had connected well. Now, Celeste was quiet, unsure what to make of the situation…she had been well-trained in being as invisible or as visible as she needed to, but it seemed there was no norm in this household.

Rogue rolled her eyes to Kitty…the buoyant, sarcastic and oh-so-mysterious Celeste, was replaced by an awkward, tongue-tied, blushing teenager. Kitty shrugged gesturing to Kurt's tail which was twitching slightly at the pointed end- a sure sign of Kurt's own nerves.

"Don't freak out," Kitty said with a nervous laugh. "I was kinda weird about Kurt too…as in I wouldn't talk to him or be in the same room, let alone touch him. See you've totally breached that barrier already!"

"Yeah…just 'cause there's a fuzzy-blue demon boy who literally goes to the depths of hell an'back every tahme he ports and is the brother of the power-suckin' vampahre ya see before ya, no cause for alarm," Rogue added helpfully, in a painfully optimistic tone.

The Celeste that Rogue and Kitty had discovered reappeared, midnight blue eyes flashing darkly, and her lips curving into a derisive sneer.

"I'm not alarmed and I sure ain't freaked…" she began angrily.

Her expression softened into a grin and her eyes twinkled, as she turned back to Kurt, leaning forward to examine him with no hint of distaste whatsoever.

"Was just wonderin' what shade of purple your skin'd turn if ya blushed, blue boy."

It took a careful eye to recognise the widening of Kurt's eyes and how his tail seemed to wag hesitantly, to realise that he had blushed. And, of course, the eyes of Kitty, so adept at matching tops to skirts, shoes to bags, picked it up.

"I can't believe I never even thought…" Kitty said in a somewhat dazed tone, eyes sweeping to a certain spot high on Kurt's cheek.

Everyone saw Kitty's body tense slightly, her palm shifting against the carpet of the floor. She pounced felinely at Kurt, who, with inhuman speed and grace, had barely dodged. He had jumped backwards and up, wide, two-toed hands and feet clinging to the wall, while his tail snaked up to curve around the light fixture. Kitty leapt again, not to be cheated of her prize, grasping empty air, as Kurt pushed off the wall to swing in a wide circle to catch Kitty's shoulders. Kitty phased out of his grip and through the wall. Her head popped out and she gave a squeal.

"Kurt! Look out!"

Rogue and Celeste scrambled out of the way, as the light fixture dropped a few centimetres, before jolting to a stop. Kurt sighed in obvious relief.

A second later, the light fixture, mutant and all, crashed to the floor with a loud thump and shattering of glass. Kurt gave a loud moan, small cuts leaking blood from his tail and lower back…as Kitty ran out of the wall to him.

"Kurt!"

(0o)

From the floor below, Logan heard the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground hard, followed by the shattering of glass. He began to walk faster…those sounds were not to unusual in this strange house. Kitty screamed and he broke into a quick trot…after all, the girl screamed when a moth flew at her. Kurt moaned in pain and Logan began to sprint up the stairs…Kitty had probably just hit him for porting into her room when she was changing or something…as he entered the hallway, the elusive scent of blood- the Elf's blood- invaded his nostrils and he saw red…

Adamantium-coated claws extending, he easily sliced through the pine door with a roar, brandishing his weapons threateningly, as he, in turn, pointed them at each person in the room.

"Jesus, Logan, it was just an accident!" Rogue yelled, nearly falling off the bed she had been sitting on.

Logan, nostrils flared, read the scene with his heightened-sense of smell. Kitty's fear…Kurt's blood…the underlying scent of sulphur that tainted every room of the mansion- Rogue, Kitty, Kurt and that Celeste. He sheathed his claws.

"Where's the wind kid?" he queried, glaring at Kurt, where he sat on the floor, whimpering as Kitty babied him.

"Ehm…Monsieur Logan?" a small voice said from behind him.

Logan whipped around, surprised. She had slipped behind the open remains of the door, possibly as soon as he had barrelled in, all too prepared to gut her. The kid had survivor's instinct…good. She looked somewhat bashful, still wearing the clothes that Kitty and Rogue had leant her. Logan grunted in acknowledgement.

"The Professor wants me to take you for a run of Danger Room- the one you saw this morning with Half-Pint running it."

Celeste's eyes widened in anticipation…she had been aching to try her own skills in that room. She was still somewhat nervous about putting her powers on show…after all, she had treated them to quite a show this morning. She had, in fact, been testing her control all that day. She could extend her awareness of her physical surrounds to outside the mansion, or about twenty-five to thirty metres in all directions. She had been calling breaths of wind to scatter carefully shredded paper and had, already, hesitantly called a larger wind to whip a stand of trees into activity, from an open bathroom window. However, she was still very hesitant about her ability to change her body into air particles…suppose she couldn't come back? When she had first transformed, was that loss of consciousness a product of her own will, or an effect of the change?

"Ya won't have a uniform yet, kid, so don't bother dressin' up…'Ro will see to a uniform."

Celeste bit her lip, her excitement almost tangible…the three other teenage mutants exchanged worried glances. When they'd each arrived, alone and untested, they hadn't been _allowed_, let alone asked, to engage with the Danger Room. In fact, in those earlier years, they'd been incapable of matching the Danger Room, unless they were in a team…spearheaded by the offensive power of Cyclops and defensive capabilities of Jean Grey. This was odd, but they could see that Celeste was bristling and ready.

"Can ve vatch?" Kurt asked eagerly, his tail well bandaged and the bleeding entirely halted.

Logan shrugged.

"Sure, Elf…right after you fix the light and get this place cleaned up. Rogue and Half-Pint can watch."

Kurt's mouth dropped open at the obvious unfairness and turned, mumbling something about 'favouritism' and 'stupid badgers'. Celeste was bouncing on her heels, as she headed Logan to the door, striding with easy, knowledgeable steps. She knew the layout of this whole mansion- each door seal, each drawer space- closely and, if such a travesty as a wrong turn should occur- her power over the air and her ability to 'feel' her surrounds would surely correct her path.

Logan stalked after her, glaring at he back as Rogue and Kitty trailed him, trying to figure out what exactly was so special about Celeste…

(0o)

Celeste eyes were narrowed strips, gleaming blue flitting about as she searched out any foe, any sign of attack. Her breathing was slow and steady, deep but soundless. Her stance was that of a fighters, knees slightly bent and feet firmly planted, prepared to spring in any direction. Her hands, however, were shaking. Not from fear or nerves, but excitement. The thrill of an unknown challenge and the chance to prove herself. She allowed a shiver to travel up her spine and goosebumps prickled her skin, as the light flashed red, then dark, then to a dim white.

'Simulation 21.8: Level 4.'

The floor under her feet shifted slightly and she jumped backwards, just as a pillar shot from the ground where she'd bee standing. Around her, other tiles were rising and dropping, until the surface was a patchwork maze. She looked around and saw shining metal and, somewhere to her right, heard a mechanical buzzing. Height. She'd need to get higher.

She began to run in the opposite direction and, finding a pillar just taller than herself, grasped it and pulled herself on top of it with straining hands. She had to get higher and reached for the next pillar….now about three metres from the ground. With sharp eyes, she traced the sound…the sound was coming from two separate points. She took a breath and let it out, her skin tingling as she felt around the pillars, searching for whatever hunted her in this metal maze. Round…very hot…hovering and using shooting jets of air behind and below it, to keep it in that state. Was it this easy? She could pick them off easily, without ever physically seeing them. She grinned and sent a tongue of air, slowly and then quickly, to shove one of them, which faltered, before rolling lazily so that the air simply rushed over it. Or not so easy. She'd have to get closer and use a cutting razorblade of wind and hunt the drones down one by one. Yeah…easy.

She yelled in alarm, as the pillar below her dropped rapidly, leaving her momentarily hanging in midair, as she dived forwards to grab at another pillar, as it went rocketing skywards. She grasped it tightly, gasping for air as, with a deep rumbling noise, it settled into place. She was about twenty feet off the ground and slowly slipping.

Storm had flown, she had gathered to herself the reins of the air to swoop and soar above the ocean. Celeste knew, theoretically, how to do it. The air was made of particles with unlimited, untapped strength. They were as solid or insubstantial as she wanted. She just had to call the wind to her. She made the decision.

She grasped the pillar hard with wet hands, wincing as she slid down slightly. She braced her feet, as if abseiling and, with what appeared to be reckless courage, pushed as hard as she could backwards, releasing her grasp on the pole. She flipped, arms speared as if diving, and, as the ground rushed up to her, spread her arms wide, in the stance of one parachuting.

Wolverine, from where he watched, clenched his fists hard as he saw the girl falling, apparently without anything to break that fall. He had seen her clinging hopelessly to the pillar, when it rose, higher than the rest. He wasn't sure of the girl, but no kid would die on his watch. Rogue, beside him, put a comforting, gloved hand on his arm, before giving it a light squeeze.

"Ah'm sure she knows what she's doing," she said comfortingly.

"Look!" Kitty squealed excitedly.

The moment that Celeste had dived, a pillar of air had risen straight up from the ground to scoop her up. Her fall slowed, but not by much and she sent another wind following that. A little too strong. It unbalanced her and she went careening through the air, before sending herself awkwardly to the square top of another tile.

"Merde," she swore under her breath- it had been more fun than she was willing to admit, and so dangerous she'd be all too willing to give it another shot.

It had taken her closer to the drones. Regaining her composure, she crouched darkly on top of the pillar, watching a certain point below her. A moment later, her object came into sight. The drone appeared; a spherical machine, somewhat akin to some science-fiction spacecraft, with two narrow wings, to which its air-pumping engines were attached. It did a full rotation and stopped, scanning the area with a heat-seeking lens. It rocketed at her, spinning rapidly and she only just had time to duck, as it swept past her face, whipping her hair about. She turned quickly, to see it losing its momentum, only to turn around to swoop at her again.

So, it couldn't gain speed from a close distance. This was just like dodge ball. There was a shift below her and she braced herself, clinging hard to the sides of her tile. Thankfully, the pillar didn't drop far and she wasn't forced to jump, but she'd have to get higher. Above her, the drone circled, seeking her, before locking onto her. A strong wind…up and forwards, to take her to a more defensible position. She leapt, the wind catching her, and landed with considerably more grace on the next pillar, as the drone whistled past her. She gave a cry as something hit her hard on the side, knocking her off the pillar, just clinging to the top of it with the tips of her fingers. The second drone had hit her.

She kicked off the edge of the pillar confidently to be caught by another rush of air, carrying her to another position. She was getting the hang of this now. But she couldn't keep ducking, dodging and ultimately defending herself. She'd have to go on the offensive.

When Jean Grey, the telepath, had tried to hold her, she had let loose a super-speeded wave of wind. It's edge had been thin and it moved so quickly that a thin, white line had appeared in the air- according to Storm, anyway. That had been accidental, and had torn Jean Grey's uniform and cut her.

Celeste smiled- the two drones seemed to move in the same path, as they sped at her, side by side. She made a slashing motion with her hand, focussing on the air, forming a blade, which turned white as it gained speed. It hit the small drones, which sliced neatly in half, still careening towards her. Her mouth opened in shock- they were going to hit her! The four halves each exploded neatly, sending smoke and shrapnel whistling past her. When she opened her eyes, the room was flashing red.

'End Simulation.'

The pillars around her began to fall away, from the edge of the room to the centre, where she still perched. The window of the control room, which had been tinted during the activity, once more became transparent and she caught sight of a satisfied-looking Wolverine, a cheering Kitty and a surprisingly tolerant Rogue, who was allowing Kitty to jump up and down, tugging incessantly on her gloved arm.

Celeste stood tall, casually put a hand on her wrist and gave the control room a jaunty thumbs-up, flashing them a cocky grin. And, when her pillar plummeted, she remained hovering in midair, the air supporting her. It had been so long since she'd felt this free and she now possessed what almost every human had wished for at least once…she could fly. She was mastering these small fluctuations in the air and they would change, in response to her will…She could leave the confines of the grounded earth and pressing gravity and embrace the heavens, for which she was named.

She was a million miles above the intricate politics of the Assassins Guild now.

(o0)

**A quick review of this chapter:** a little fluffy intro with Bobby and Jubilee (who I think would be great if they bred), Logan is told about Xavier's suspicions, friendships forged and Celeste starts to learn the potential of her powers…next chappie: bring in the Brotherhood and Bayville High.


	7. The Wiles of Celeste

A/N: I didn't wait for reviews this time. I wouldn't change anything in this chapter for the world. I just loved writing it so much.

(o0)

Celeste opened her eyes, blearily looking at the high-ceiling of her room. She smiled as she turned in bed, hugging the plump pillow tight against her body- of course, the mansion, her home (for now anyway). Last night had been all too easy; she'd still been rushing off the adrenalin thrill and had been talkative and willing to demonstrate her powers last night. She became easily acquainted with the younger students, while keeping up a flow of witty conversation to amuse Kitty, Rogue and Kurt, to whose group she had become a select member. She had spoken to Ororo- Storm- who had eagerly promised to help her with her flight…and she had confided her deep unease with her power to transform her body completely. And then the 'team leaders' had sought her attentions, boring her with their talk of mutant-human relations and the importance of the upcoming school week. But, other than that, the night had been smooth.

Her eyes flicked to the small alarm clock, reading the glowing red digits by her bed; she had been given her own room, disused and dusty, but private. It was quarter to eight…everyone would be getting cleaned up after Danger Room now…an exercise, from which she had been excused. She took particular care with her appearance that morning. She pulled her damp hair into a loose ponytail to the side, the dark waves spilling over her shoulder. It was cool up here, even though it was summer…she had become too-used to the wet heat of Louisiana. She donned a blue scarf, draped loosely, and a plain white singlet. A black skirt, silken to the touch, ended just below her knees. Underneath, she wore light-coloured stockings and some impressive combat boots, courtesy of Rogue's favourite store. She surveyed herself in the mirror, before applying a little mascara and some light-pink gloss, if only to satisfy Kitty.

The kitchen was the expected riot and she tried her best to recall the names of all those who shouted greetings through the panic.

"Jaime- juice!" she called and one of the young clones rushed to fulfil her request, blushing and stumbling, when rewarded with a smile.

"Mornin' hon," Rogue yawned, before pushing Jaime's clone out of her way to plonk herself onto the high stool next to her.

"Bonjour, Roguey," she replied cheerfully, to Rogue's disgust. "What's it take to get a gal a ride t'school round here?"

Rogue scowled then gestured towards Scott Summers. He was fixing a dishwashing and cooking schedule to the fridge, while Bobby froze the milk in his cereal.

"Someone took mah truck for a joyrahde and it's still in shop- Cyc does runs past the school on his way to college. Just hop in the back and yah just mahght just get lucky."

Celeste grimaced.

"Any other ways?"

"Ya grab onto Kurt's tail and ya give it a tug to port, or yah pahle into Guthrie's little van with the rest of the kids. I'll take my risks with Summahs- Mista Summahs that is," she said, feigning an adoring glance in his direction.

She grabbed an apple for herself and chucked one to Celeste, motioning her to follow her. The ride was a loud one, punctuated by bellowed orders from Scott for them to shut up and that they were embarrassing him. Jean sat next to him- apparently zoning out- with her hand rested casually on Scott's leg. Celeste was busy trying to imagine what the landscape looked like from above…Jubilee, who had taken to riding with the older girls, was sitting on Rahne's lap, speaking in yells to Amara, who was tightly-cinched between them and Celeste. Rogue, given the luxury of a little breathing space, stared past all the other staring motorists into the sky rather sadly, but with a melancholy smile on her purple-touched lips.

Bayville High was just like a thousand other high schools…jocks, preps…geeks, nerds. The group everyone seemed to despise. Except now Celeste was a member of that group, although she did receive some curious stares, among the spiteful others.

"Perfect," she muttered to herself, slipping through the door to join Rogue.

Scott and Jean, however, didn't drive off immediately. Instead, Scott told her to wait and hopped out of the car, leaning casually against the door, while his hidden eyes scanned the area, as if for listeners. Rogue, joining Kurt and Kitty, who had ported there, waited nearby.

"Celeste," he began, "I don't know what you've been told or heard, but there are certain students you should steer clear of at all costs."

Celeste raised an eyebrow for him to continue and he shrugged his shoulders nervously.

"They're bad. Not just graffiti and not do their homework bad…but, they've followed Mystique and Magneto- mutant terrorists. They've attacked the X-Men before…they're dangerous and a lost cause."

Celeste's lip twitched slightly.

"A lost cause, heh? Why's that, Scotty?" she said with false pleasantness.

"They call themselves the Brotherhood of Mutants-"

"The Brotherhood of _Evil_ Mutants," Jean interjected.

"Exactly," Scott pressed, wanting Celeste's face to show a little less derision and a little more sombreness. "They're mutants who were born bad and will always be bad and that won't change. You shouldn't- no, I _forbid_ you- to come into deliberate contact with them."

Celeste's face was filling with blood…she hated this attitude. That once born, an individual was to tread a certain path, that his or her life and death were pre-determined…it was just too…_constricting_. And, then, there was the 'forbid' word.

"Born bad…you _forbid_ me?" Celeste repeated, aware that the other three seemed to be moving closer.

"Yes- born bad and forbid you. I mean, Magneto's own spawn are in there- you think that there's a shred of decency in any of them, if they come from the likes of him!"

"Scott," Jean said warningly, aware that, when he was provoked, Scott's true opinions tended to escape; the indifference of Celeste seemed to be affecting him that way.

Celeste bit her lip hard then gave up, preparing to lash out at the man, whose jaw was quivering with anger.

"That hurts, you know, one-eye," someone said, in voice so rapid that it seemed almost foreign.

A tall, lithe boy- hair as white as snow and eyes as blue as the inside of a glacier- reclined in the back of Scott's red convertible, idly twisting a strand of Jean's red hair around nimble fingers. Jean jerked forward, shocked, as Pietro sent her a charming grin.

"Don't see you round much, Red- give me a call sometime," he said, flashing a charming grin and winking, before disappearing.

Celeste's head whipped around, as the boy appeared, one arm slung casually round Scott's shoulders. Scott's hand immediately moved up to his glasses, but Jean's voice halted him.

"Not here," she said warningly. "You're already attracting attention."

Indeed, the students, who had previously been filing up to enter the school's main hall, had paused in clusters, watching from a safe distance. Others had fled. Obviously, when mutants got together, bad things happened.

"Yeah, Scotty-boy, we're attracting attention," the boy said mockingly. "How 'bout you introduce me to the newest geek in the band," he said, looking Celeste up and down approvingly.

"Take your hand off me, Quicksilver, or lose it," Scott said through gritted teeth.

"Like you'd have a chance," Quicksilver laughed, before almost miraculously appearing right in front of Celeste.

She was now able to follow his movement with her powers. He was so quick that the air particles split to form a path behind him…he'd be able to pack the same kind of impact as one of her razor-winds. He seized her hand and brought it up to his face, to peer over it with laughing eyes.

"Pietro Maximoff- the spawn of evil mutant terrorist, Magneto- Master of Magnetism. And can I get the name, codename and powers of the newest X-Geek?"

"Don't answer…he's fishing for information for Magneto," Jean said out loud.

Celeste ignored her, instead taking another step towards Pietro, so that their bodies almost touched.

"Celeste," she answered breathily, allowing the slightest of blushes to touch her cheek and lips. "I'm very pleased to meet you…_Pietro_."

Rogue, Kitty and Kurt had joined the small group, while human students had paused to watch this show. This was a power learnt from the most expert of assassins…to enchant a member of the opposite sex, to bend him to her will and relax his guard, for the final strike. It was one such talent, as she had had no cause to exhibit to the inhabitants of Xavier's mansion. She knew that her wide blue eyes- sometimes as deep and dark as bottomless ocean, or bright and cold as winter skies- held his own. Kurt felt like gagging, while Kitty, Jean and Scott stood stock-still, mouths slightly agape. There seemed to be something wrong with Rogue who was clutching her throat.

"Wow…are your powers to hypnotise me to your bidding, babe, because I'm all yours…" he said, grinning cockily and what seemed to be another easy conquest. "What can the pretty girl _actually _do?"

"Oh…" Celeste said in maidenly surprise. "There're so many people around…"

She slipped her hand from his grasp, to trace a path down his chest then laying her palm flat against his stomach. It was flat, and well-shaped with muscles. She could feel his heart beating fast, as she leaned forward a little, to whisper into his ear (loud enough for the small group to here).

"…and I don't think I can show something so…special and private…to all of them."

His heart was pounding hard now and he swallowed. Did this soft-spoken girl know what she was doing to him? He swallowed again, hoping his face didn't express what he was truly feeling…instead, he switched back to his cocky smile.

"How 'bout we get together sometime…_alone_…and you can show me those special powers of yours…"

Kurt turned in disgust- how could she act like that? Kitty stared, becoming aware that a game, beyond her understanding, was being played here…and Rogue, her eyes were gleaming and she appeared to be stuffing her knuckles into her mouth. She understood this game and she could see who would be the winner…she had once met a man…they'd always tied at this game… Celeste was running a single finger, gently raking it up Pietro's neck, up to his lips and Pietro's eyes were widening…Jean was yelling into Celeste's mind to stop it, but was ignored.

"I think that'd be suitable," she whispered huskily into his ear, her breath warm against the side of his face.

Pietro nearly melted…not such a soft-spoken girl then…it would be easy to get information from this girl who 'he' had ever so easily seduced. In fact, Lance had informed Magneto of the new mutant, and Pietro was under orders to find any information of use about her. But if he chose to mix business with pleasure…well, who could blame him?

"Really," he said, looking into the eyes of the slightly-shorter girl.

Those eyes, which had been filled with only entranced adoration, steeled within moments. Her gleaming lips, curved into a derisive grin and she pulled her hand off his lips to flick his nose. She turned around and took a couple of steps away, smiling radiantly at Rogue, who had tears running down her face.

"Hell no, Quick-boy," she said smoothly, then flicked her hair over her shoulder, to fix a twinkling blue eye on him over her shoulder. "You're probably too fast to be worth my time anyway…the fifteen seconds or so anyway."

There was silence. Pietro was silent, blood rushing to his face; Jean and Scott, stared at her in a mixture of confusion and disgust; Kurt didn't seem to have caught on; Kitty stared at Celeste in admiration; the students, shocked. Then Rogue gave a most unlady-like snort, before bursting into deep, melodic laughter, arms clutched over her stomach to hold back the chuckles threatening to escape her. A buzz began in the audience and there were other laughs.

Scott made as if to grab her arm, to prevent her from simply walking off into the crowds, but Celeste halted him with a warning glare. She was absorbing this, this almost blood lust, and none would ruin it.

"Scram," she said quietly, jerking her head towards the waiting Jean, who was staring at her critically.

'Take your pretty boyfriend and go,' she thought to herself, well aware that Jean was probing her mind.

Jean gave no sign of acknowledgement.

"Scott, let's go."

"That. Was. Amazing," Kitty said, awed, as she grabbed Rogue's arm, dragging her over. "How…where did you learn that?"

"Stick around, Kit, I'll teach ya."

Rogue was still laughing hard, her makeup running down her face. She'd regret that later. Celeste smiled at her uncontained laughter, before turning back to where Pietro had stood.

"Knew he'd be quick off the mark," she said knowledgeably, sending Rogue back into paroxysms of laughter.

'School's not so bad, heh?' she thought to herself, probing with her powers to search out the tall figure, behind a tree trunk, watching the scene. 'Might have some fun…'

(o0)

Chapter overview: Celeste is warned away from the Brotherhood. Celeste makes a beeline to Pietro and seduces and humiliates him with her wiles…yeah, I'm so seeing Pietro and Celeste as a pairing…I just adored this chapter so much, I'll make up a celebrity couple name: Celetrio? Pietreste? Celepie? Lestro?


	8. Confrontations and Congratulations

A/N: Thank you so much to Paprika for reviewing…twice…in two days…sigh My hero. Yes, if anyone read the reviews, there will be _a lot_ more of the Assassin and Thieves' Guilds, but you'll have to wait a bit for that stuff. I'm looking to develop character relations and speed up the plot in the next few chapters. Yeah, I think the main pairing will be Celeste and Pietro, but there'll be Rogue and Remy relations as well. I've changed the timing of events in this story, so please bear with me. It's after the last season, but Kitty and Co. are seventeen and eighteen now. Please read and review, and skip to the end of this chapter to get an overview.

(o0)

Word travelled fast around Bayville High. Pietro was a Class-A prick and no-one was reluctant to see him humiliated- albeit by another mutie. In fact, for that day, Celeste felt somewhat like a celebrity…a feeling, which she knew was stupid and oh so narcissistic, but she rode anyway. Kurt had somewhat caught onto the fact that it had just been a one-woman show that morning and Kitty was wondering whether she'd ever have the guts to do that to someone…and, of course, Rogue was Rogue. All she wanted to do was try the trick on Scott in front of Jean.

"You'd do that to Summers?" Celeste said, grimacing in disgust.

"Hell yah, whah not? When Ah was evah so young and impressionable, Ah _actually _wanted him," Rogue replied, holding her books to her chest, memories flooding her.

"And then Grey came 'long?" Celeste said encouragingly.

Rogue laughed.

"Lahke that'd make a difference…one, Ah couldn't touch him and two…" she looked around conspiringly, "Ah found bettah."

"Better…?" Celeste said carefully, not wanting to sound sceptical, but it intrigued her…some traitorous part of her wondered what kind of guy would go for a woman that couldn't be touched…

Etienne had…or had she gone for him? Either way, their meetings had been exceedingly secretive , when they knew the consequences of discovery. She let a smile curve onto her face, a dreamy expression possessing her. It was good that she could think of him with a smile…he was always in her heart, but he had told her to leave…she didn't believe in God, heaven or angels (though she may have believed in hell and its demon-eyed minions) but she felt that he still existed somehow.

Rogue had a similar expression on her face…her demon-eyed kidnapper…Gambit had probably been the best thing to happen to her since her powers manifested. He had entered her life unasked, charming her. Sometimes, he would easily pass the Mansion's security system to cajole her away from the X-Men, but, inevitably, Rogue would reject him and he'd be back some other night. Or Remy, when he'd escaped from Magneto's clutches on a 'reconnaissance mission', he'd snag her away from school, the park, or mall and they could talk and he'd woo her with sweet words and sweeter innuendos. It didn't worry her that she hadn't seen him for two or three weeks now. He'd told her he had to go home to do something for the Guild, so she'd leave a candle burning on the balcony outside her and Kitty's shared room…it was strange, neither could define their relationship.

Each girl left their reverie to exchange smiles, then looked shocked as they walked past a crowd of hulking jocks, who cheered as they passed them, where they leaned against a row of lockers, flanked by cheerleaders. This cheer was directed at Celeste, who merely rolled her eyes and kept walking, following Rogue to their mathematics class.

"Try your tricks on me anytime, mutie!" one yelled from behind them.

"Duncan," Rogue snorted. "Blob in a wig could trick him."

"Blob?" Celeste asked in question, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Yeah…one of Cyc's evil mutants…hell, Ah should drain him for that- Ah used to live with the boys. They're alrahght but they just aren't X-Men material…"

"Like you?" Celeste joked.

"Definitely lahke me," Rogue said, as they joined a queue of student filing into a room. "Do ya have family down South?"

"Kinda…" Celeste said evasively, turning around when someone called out a greeting to Rogue.

"Nice work on Pietro- he's such a jerk," a pretty, dark-haired girl said, approaching them. "I'm Amanda Sefton…a _friend _of Kurt's."

(0o)

The members of the Brotherhood- Pietro currently excluded- occupied a full half of the west bleachers by the track. Blob occupied by the bottom row of seats; Toad perched behind him; Wanda sat with Lance in the back row. No one else dared to sit remotely close to them…it was dangerous and held little appeal.

"Man…I hate school, yo," Toad moaned, hopping up to sit by Wanda.

Lance raised an eyebrow at the younger mutant…at Wanda's behest, Toad had taken to showering occasionally and had cut down on the (public) eating of flying insects.

"Would you rather be off in some remote place with Magneto and his thugs?" he said boredly, leaning back to look at the sky.

"Or not…I like school just fine…great learning an' stuff…" Toad said, shuddering- Magneto's guys scared the hell out of him… "Yo Tabby!"

Tabby, who wasn't really a member of the Brotherhood, came strutting towards them. As always, from the bounce of her walk, it was if she was almost dancing to an unheard tune.

"Hey Toad. Hey guys. Seen Pietro yet?" she said loudly, with a mischievous look in her eyes. "Or is he still hiding?"

Blob creased his brow.

"Pietro's a wimp…but what's he hiding from?"

Tabby told them about what she'd heard from Kitty that morning…Blob had laughed so hard that another bench fell victim to his weight. Toad had choked on a fly he had been sneaking, when Wanda turned around.

"He always was a cocky bastard," Wanda said with a smile. "Or did she go all telepath on him or what?"

Tabby jumped onto the bench and leaned casually on Blob's huge shoulder.

"From what I here it was _au naturale_, but I gotta meet this chica!"

"Wait a sec, Tabs- she the one with black hair? Bit taller than Kitty?"

Wanda looked vaguely pissed off at this comparison, then thoughtful.

"The one _we_ saw at the mall, right, Lance?"

"No idea," Tabby said, producing a small explosive ball and twirling it on the tips of her fingers. "Kitty went all geek on me and didn't tell me her powers of anything…but she, like, arrived on, like, Friday night?" Tabby finished, mimicking Kitty's one so prominent way of speaking, before crushing the explosive ball between her fingers.

"Pie's meant to be getting information on this X-geek for Mags, right?" Toad asked Lance, who silenced him with a look from him to Tabby.

"What am I gonna do?" Tabby exclaimed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "Run and tell? It's so frickin' obvious, you know!"

"Yeah, well…you should join up with us again," Lance suggested offhandedly. "It might not be so obvious but something big is gonna be happening…not so soon but it's coming."

The Brotherhood was suddenly grave…they had also received that cryptic message, courtesy of Magneto. It had been a call for them to start preparing themselves, training, gathering information. Recruiting mutants to their cause. Although Lance had started making them train, as best as he could; this invitation extended to Tabitha was really a half-hearted go at recruiting her. Tabby shrugged.

"You know me, Lance. I can't settle…so I'll just stay me and just go with the flow."

"You might have to choose," Wanda added. "I don't think there's going to be a world for people who won't choose a side. Trust me on that."

Tabby looked at her; this girl, who was Magneto's own daughter, had changed. She was no longer the trigger-happy girl, fresh from the asylum, nor the brainwashed child, eagre to obey Magneto. Wanda genuine believed in Magneto's dream, even if she didn't believe in him. The same look was in Toad's eyes, Blob's eyes, Lance's eyes…these people had been shunned by humans, they had every right to feel that way.

"You'll have to count me out of it," she said apologetically, slightly intimidated, as if they'd knock her off the fence she was sitting on at any moment.

"No problems, Boom-Boom," Lance said, equally apologetic. "Just look after yourself, right?"

Tabby smiled then waltzed off, cropped blonde hair swinging. Wanda looked at Lance…he had seemed so sad. She knew he would rather not be involved, but he seemed to have resigned himself. He would remain by Magneto…indeed, he'd be the one to lead this group of degenerate, teenage mutants into battle. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he smiled at her.

(0o)

"Blob- strong and stupid," Rogue said, pointing at a picture from the year book from last year. "Obsessive as…he's really slow so Ah don't think you'd have any problems with him. If yah get caught, yoh pretty much screwed. Just stay out of reach…Ah don't think blowin' on him or even doin' that nifty razor-wind stuff will shake him up."

"Duly noted," Celeste said, taking mental notes as Rogue, Kitty and Kurt (with occasional comments from Amanda, who was virtually on Kurt's lap) were briefing her on members of the Brotherhood.

"Pietro's the total opposite- he's quick. Really quick. Like so quick you can't see him coming. He's quicker than-"

"She means he's really quick," Amanda said in a stage whisper, before laughing at Kitty's withering glare.

"And he's not stupid, though-" Kitty paused with a snicker, "-I guess you could just take him off his guard like this morning."

"Or not," Kurt said, with a shudder…possibly from disgust, or it could have been a shiver as Amanda toyed with his concealed fur.

"He can actually pack a pretty good hit, he can totally run on water, he can whip up a whirlwind…he's pretty good. But he's an arrogant prick…and his hair is pretty cool."

"It's not just that," Rogue added. "I absorbed him once. He thinks at super speed too, so that's why he can turn and avoid things at such high speeds. Trah to fly outta reach and, if ya can, get it so he's not in contact with anything…he can pretty much run on anything slightly solid."

"Or flash him some skin," Amanda said cheekily, Kurt tickling her in rebuke.

Celeste nodded…Pietro Maximoff….Quicksilver. He'd probably be a challenge if they fought. Hopefully they would eventually.

"Toad-" Kurt said with a frown. "You don't vant him to touch you…he smells. He can steeck to valls like me, and can kick very hard and jump veally high."

"He uses his tongue," Kitty said, seeming slightly nauseated. "He totally tried to strangle me with it once and I swear I was gonna puke…it's like fifteen feet long or something. He spits this green goop- yeah, _spits_- and it's all gross and gets hard quickly."

Kitty had turned a rather green colour and pushed her lunch away from her.

"Dude, zat's what you get for talking about him at lunchtime!" Kurt said with a laugh.

Rogue was unfazed and swallowed her mouthful of food.

"He's a coward, so just kinda intimidate him. He'll trah and get you from behind, or aim at your eyes."

"Gross…" Celeste said quietly…rejecting her sandwich. "Who else?"

"Wanda- Scarlet Witch," Kitty said. "Horrible taste in clothing, makeup worse than Rogue's and really powerful. I don't know what it is, but she can break things, move things, make things explode."

"She can shift probability factors," Kurt said, wrapping an arm around Amanda; at Kitty's look, he held his hands up defensively. "Forge told me!"

"You'll want to knock her out or something as quickleh as possible," Rogue suggested.

"And…" Celeste prompted.

"Lance Alvers- Avalanche…he's-"

"Kitty's first love," Rogue interjected.

"-the leader of the Brotherhood," Kitty continued resolutely, her cheeks colouring. "He can make earthquakes, sometimes quite focussed. If you anywhere indoors, you've gotta watch your head, because that building's coming down. He can cause the ground to collapse in a certain area, or send pillars of rock straight from the ground. While he's using his powers, he's defenceless. It hurts him to use those powers."

"My, my, Kitty- that's quite the sales pitch," Celeste whispered, and Kitty ducked her head to conceal her blush.

"And the Acolytes…they're the ones you _really_ have to watch out for," Kitty said determinedly, shifting Celeste's attention to Rogue.

The bell rang loudly and they stood up, Rogue speaking loudly over the crush.

"Colossus- Piotre Rasputin…coats his body in some really hard metal- really strong and fast! Pyro- St John Allderdyce: absolutely crazy with pyrokinesis…Gambit- sexeh as Rem-"

Rogue was forced to move aside as someone pushed past her, almost touching her exposed wrist. She flinched back and Kurt pushed that person out of the way defensively.

"Ah'll tell ya later!" she called out, late for class, as Celeste headed to physics with Kurt and Amanda.

(0o)

'Celeste…can Scott and I have a word with you in the parking lot?'

Celeste jerked and her chair grinded backwards loudly and everyone in the class turned to look at her. She'd finished her work long before (her and Belle's private tutor in New Orleans had been superb) and had been almost dozing , with her head in her hands. And then Jean Grey's voice had spoken in her mind…she yawned.

'Miss Grey, I'm in class right now- d'you want me to just leave wid my work not done?' she sent back lazily.

'Yes.'

She prodded Kurt's arm, who looked at her expectantly.

"Hearing voices in my head," she said cryptically. "I'll see ya later."

She stood up and, looking at the clock, nodded to the glaring teacher, and walked out purposefully. Anyone would think that she'd already had permission to leave and, hopefully, the teacher would think that that appointment had simply slipped his mind. The hallways were abandoned at this time; silent but for the tapping of the hard soles of Celeste's heavy boots. She was heading to her locker and taking her own sweet time of it; after all, it was virtually at the other side of the school. She thought she felt a rush of wind pass her and she stopped.

She kept walking and stopped, when the wind passed her in the opposite direction.

She smiled to herself and kept walking and stopping for a while, sending tendrils of air seeking out her tormentor. As she did this, she unlooped her blue scarf from around her neck. She stopped and held it loosely in her hands and, as she began to walk again, she whipped her scarf outwards and it was wrenched from her hands, and sped down the hall, a bold streamer.

Pietro stopped in the middle of the hallway with a scowl, untangling the blue scarf from his neck- what were the girl's powers?

"Idiot…I e'nt as stupid as ya might think I am," Celeste drawled sarcastically. "And I'll take that back, thank you quickie."

Pietro, still glowering, chucked it just short of her, so it fell on the ground between them. Celeste raised an eyebrow, wondering whether it was meant as a challenge or test. She took a step forward then, with an all too pleasant smile, leaned over to scoop it off the ground. That same moment, she felt a hand gripping her ponytail and wrenching her head backwards and her left arm being twisted behind her back- her right hand held the scarf. It was a move that made a victim entirely too vulnerable…and Celeste knew how to combat that.

"What's your power or I swear I'll twist this arm right off," Pietro growled menacingly, from where he held her immobile.

She didn't think he'd do it…it was probably a ploy for her to either use her powers to escape or attack him, or have her, in fear, answer him.

"I can phase," she said, not so creatively, but causing her arm to feel another twinge of pain.

She winced.

"Try another," Pietro said threateningly.

"Oui, mon amore," she said quietly.

It was a risky move, relying more on the guts of the captor, than the strength of the captive. She pushed hard upwards with her left leg and jumped with her right, twisting as she did so. As she thought, as her arm twisted unbearably, he released her and she virtually rolled around him. The hand, which had grasped her hair, was pulled over his shoulder and she grabbed it and pulled down, ending in a crouching position with Pietro's back arched. She swept her feet out to knock his feet from under him, so that he hit the ground hard. She still crouched behind him, holding onto his hand gently.

"That was fun, Pietro. We should play again some time," she said sardonically, standing up and stepping over him.

The funny thing was that she absolutely meant it. And Pietro, lying there for a whole second more than he had to, was angry to be ousted twice, _without any information from her at all_. She hadn't even been forced to reveal her powers, even with 'pressure' applied. He had stalked her all day, from a distance, and had learnt nothing but that she laughed a lot, caused others to laugh and seemed generally likeable… Except that she was a strong fighter, without her powers anyway.

He slammed a clenched fist into the ground, bruising the gleaming vinyl and cracking the cement below…Pietro shot up and left…he'd have another chance to discover her powers and get her back. The Brotherhood would never let him hear the end of it, if this latest development got out.

Next time, he wouldn't underestimate her.

(o0)

Jean and Scott were waiting in the parking lot and, as Celeste approached them leisurely, they stopped talking, each wearing a suitably serious expression.

"Y'called?" Celeste said cheerfully.

"Celeste…the way you behaved this morning…" Scott began awkwardly, "…we really didn't like seeing that."

"Oh."

"What Scott means is that is not the behaviour that you should be exhibiting in public…you made a spectacle of yourself in front of half of the school. And it makes matters worse that Pietro- a member of the Brotherhood- was involved " Jean elucidated. "We are excusing you now, because you were not properly informed about them, but you mustn't become involved in another incident like that again."

"Yes mam…I'll just take it lying down like a good member of the X-Men," Celeste said scornfully, with a mocking little salute.

"Seriously, Celeste," Scott said, "what you did may have been funny-" Jean gave him a withering glance, "-but you simply can't do that. You humiliated Quicksilver and that's only going to be a basis for problems in the future…"

"Merci…and when or if dem problems arise, I'll take care of 'em," Celeste said conclusively.

"You won't be able to take care of them. You have no idea what it's like to face an enemy yet…you would be absolutely defenceless. You can't even use your powers properly. I say this only out of concern, but you're too weak to stand up to other mutants…you should keep a low profile until you're ready to actually become involved."

"Like you're great defence from quick-boy this mornin', right?"

"That was for your benefit," Scott inserted defensively. "He wasn't doing anything wrong….he was baiting us, and you took the lure. He wasn't really expecting that, but you've been marked by him and, thus, the Brotherhood now. You'll have to watch your back and, by no means, approach the Brotherhood."

"Because I'll be just frothin' at de mouth for their 'tention, right?" Celeste said sardonically. "Oh great and mighty leaders, I'm pretty sure I can take care of m'self…thanks for your concern, but I don't take kindly to you tellin' me who I can and can't approach- I'll approach Magneto if I want to and you can just keep y'noses out of it."

The bell rang inside the highschool and there was the rumble of a thousand feet pounding the floor as students eagerly filed out the doors, intent on better pastimes. As students- laughing, yelling, shouting- made for the parking lot, Celeste broke away from the two older X-Men, dissolving into the crowd. Scott may have yelled something, or he may not have.

"I'll walk!" she yelled out behind her, flashing a grin before disappearing in a flip of raven hair.

(0o)

A/N: Alright, the review of this chapter: Celeste is made something of a celebrity for the day; a conversation with Boom-Boom and the Brotherhood (a hinting of great and terrible things to come); Celeste is briefed on the Brotherhood and their powers; hallway conflict between Pietro and Celeste and Scott and Jean try to lecture her for her morning antics. Lovely. Just wondering (yes, Paprika, my beautiful/handsome reviewer, this is to you) who would like to see Kitty paired up in this story- or just hints of it- and with Lance or Piotre.


	9. Bonjour!

A/N: Hey hey people! Another chapter for you…and just some notes: I thought that the X-Men Evo Rogue was a good character, but the whole angsty, jealous and resentful Rogue just wouldn't work here. I'm going to make her more like her 1990s' cartoon and comic character, to be more bold and appealing. Let's just say she grew up a whole lot after the whole Apocalypse episode. This chapter changed from my original plan, as it tends to do, but it shouldn't really change the storyline too much. Thanks again to Paprika and, once more, there is a review of what goes on in this chapter.

(o0)

"This should be warm for a moment, child," Ororo said serenely, as she allowed the strange substance to coat her skin. "It just has to mould to the contours of your body."

Celeste was sorely tempted to scratch at the black matter, which coated her naked torso. Although she had blushed deeply at Storm's request, she had obeyed, seeing as the same procedure had been performed on Kitty, when her powers had first manifested. Storm had since told Celeste that, after she had transformed her body into sentient air particles, it appeared that the majority of her clothing had not made the transaction from solid to ethereal. However, the 'clingier' garments had.

And, so, Celeste was lying on a metal table below the mansion, allowing a warm black substance, in appearance, akin to hot, black wax, travel almost sentiently over her body. This would prevent any embarrassing incidents, should the need to 'aerate' arise. Kitty had needed such a suit during the developing stages of her powers- when she could not extend the field of her phasing- so that she did not simply phase through her clothing as well.

"Ororo…" Celeste said hesitantly, suppressing a shudder as the concoction slipped around her sensitive sides, "Y'know that I don't want to use that power…"

"I know, Celeste," Storm said, motioning for her to raise her arms. "But the need may arise, but I am well aware of your fears."

"I haven't used that power yet- consciously, anyway. Who's to say that next time I change, I'll be able to return?"

Storm- through the connection that they shared- could sense the girl's underlying anxiety. It was a connection that Xavier had thought best not to block completely, lest it be useful, but neither was it as open as it had been. Celeste could feel what strong emotions lay behind Storm's calm façade and felt, with a thrill of excitement, when she shaped the elements of nature to her bidding. Storm was able to detect the use of Celeste's power and, at moments like these, tendrils of emotional anxiety emanated from the child.

"You'd be surprised…those among us, who have been gifted with these abilities have been given them for a reason. And, child, surely you were not given them only to fade from existence…and the connection between us was fated to be forged. Everything happens for a reason and we are but leaves caught in the wind…not, as we believe, the winds which herald change…"

Celeste was strangely hypnotised by the weather-witch's words.

"But, perhaps, we have some sway in changing the path of those who tread this Earth. I feel that the best way of being able to reach out and help all individuals- human and mutant alike- is by being here, with the X-Men."

Celeste understood what Storm felt and believed; she could feel her fervour.

The black liquid covered the small of her back, sealing the suit. It covered her torso and Storm had promised to extend the suit, if only by adding high 'boots' and long gloves.

"Merci, Storm," Celeste thanked her and Storm accepted it, with a slight incline of her head.

"You mustn't remove that suit for twenty-four hours and I'd highly recommend avoiding open flames. I'll make adjustments to the structure at that time," Storm said, glancing at the clock, which read quarter till six in the morning. "You'd better hurry now- you mustn't miss Danger Room; dear Jean and Scott would be absolutely livid. I must attend to other matters this morning, but, perhaps you'll find opportunity this morning to test that suit of yours."

"Maybe," Celeste replied.

"Oh- and I shall help you with your flying this afternoon. It does, indeed, seem that we are able to call on the same forces to grant us wings."

"Definitely- I'll see you!" Celeste said with fake anticipation, feeling slightly guilty.

She tipped Storm a slight wave before leaving the room at a brisk jog. Storm smiled…she enjoyed the girl's company and knew that Celeste enjoyed hers…although she cared deeply for each student of the Institute, Celeste was like the autumn which she so loved…all flaring tempers, followed by apologetic murmurs…she was the storm, the sunshine and the playful breeze…especially the playful breeze. But she had yet to feel the chill.

Meanwhile, Celeste held the air particles which surrounded her body in constant motion, forming a film between her and the rest of the air. Wolverine could catch her scent, as she escaped and Wolverine would kill her (or so she had been promised) if she skipped Danger Room to further avoid the vigilant Jean Grey and Scott Summers. They had, since their confrontation outside of the school two days ago, been trying to corner her, isolated from the relative protection of the rest of the students. Celeste had walked to and from school since that day, joined yesterday by Rogue in the morning and Jubilee in the afternoon. She dressed quickly, in jeans and a black top with long, flaring sleeves. She tossed a long, leather jacket on. Considering for a moment, she grabbed her blue scarf, which had become somewhat her signature item of clothing- her shoes went into her school bag, slung over her back.

Opening her window, she took a breath of the fresh, early morning air. The sun was rising, touching the sparse mist that hovered over the woods on Xavier's property. She could hardly feel the suit on her bare skin; it was indeed like a second skin.

Spreading her arms in that immortal embrace of the gift of light and warmth, she pushed off the window seal with her bare feet, falling slightly before being caught by the air. Smoothly, she glided in a wide half-circle, as if, indeed, gifted with intangible wings. She angled downwards to hit the sloping grass hill at a run, before pushing off at the bottom with more vigour, shooting upwards in reckless abandonment, only to slowly lower herself on the other side of the metal gates.

She had been warned against using any obvious powers outside the Institute grounds…after all, you never knew who could be watching.

(0o)

Pietro leaned lazily against the trunk of a tall, thick-boughed tree…for the last half hour he had been keeping himself amused by speeding at any leaf in the immediate vicinity, to catch it before it fell. But there was little challenge in this…and even less excitement. And he'd wait here for another two hours, if only to glimpse his quarry.

She had apparently taken to walking to and from school, sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of some other girl from the X-Men. He would have attempted to draw Celeste into using her powers yesterday, but the presence of another opponent would lessen those chances. He could just see her sneering at him, as Rogue drained him, or moments before he was blinded by the kid who worked with fireworks. So, hopefully, he would catch her alone. If he was lucky, it would be early; before the rest of Xavier's X-Geeks came by…they'd pass the Brotherhood's dilapidated home on the way to school each morning.

And maybe today was his lucky day.

Celeste walked alone, wishing she could be flying this distance, but cursing the blossoming sense of duty that had been planted within her by Storm's belief in Xavier. This 'duty'…. It was a troublesome thing. She craved the opportunity to use her powers in something more than a simulation of real life. She was not bred for idleness.

And maybe today was her lucky day.

Pietro stood in the middle of her path, watching a perching lark warbling its greeting while he lazily crossed his arms, in some parody of accidental meeting. He turned his head slightly, eyes meeting hers. Good. Her eyes were wary and her body had tensed, ready for fight or flight. His grin widened. A light wind blew, teasing tendrils of her loose hair around her face and flattering his clothes to enthusiastic fluttering.

Pietro made a concentrated effort to not use his superspeed, focussing on moving in his own version of slow motion. He stalked towards Celeste, between her and the road.

"Good morning, Celeste," he said, still grinning rather threateningly.

"Bonjour…" she replied hesitantly, tracing his path with distrustful eyes. "And what takes you out here so early, mon ami?"

"Just enjoying the fresh air," Pietro drawled, still stalking till he was next to her and passed her.

Celeste turned, to find that Pietro was walking a circle around her. She took a step back…his movements were too unpredictable and, if he chose to run at her, she'd have little chance to retaliate. She was unwilling to strike first.

"I'm sure," Celeste said sarcastically, taking another step back from his prowling path.

Pietro's grin widened. That same moment, Pietro had moved so quickly that he was an inch from her face. He blew the stray strands of hair from her face, as she darted backwards.

"Jumpy?" Pietro said sarcastically. "It's enough to make someone think you're intimidated."

"Me? Intimidated by a slow _couillon_ like you?" Celeste said, keeping well away from him.

Pietro smiled and took note of the word for later identification. He had slowly been herding her away from the road, into the more concealed sparse trees.

"No, Celeste, I thought I'd ask you nicely today...no-one around to _pressure_ you or anything…maybe you'd give me that demonstration of your powers that you promised me…" he said, pressing her back further.

Celeste sent searching threads of air around her. She didn't want to show him her powers, not out of fear of having them widely revealed, but simply because he desired that knowledge. She was looking for something to press her back against and avoid being caught out again.

"Oh…I'm sure y'll get one eventually, but I ain't got the time to waste on you," she combated flippantly, manoeuvring herself so that she could put her back against the tree- a more defensible position. "So how 'bout ya just run off like a good little lapdog."

Pietro's eye twitched, showing his anger. It was all Celeste needed to tell he'd move, but, as she dodged sideways, her speed was found very much wanting. She saw stars as she was slammed against the tree she'd been moving towards…her arms were pinned to either side, one of Pietro's legs pressed against her own effectively caging her- and Pietro was once more mere inches from her face…now Celeste's eyes were wide with a hint of panic. Pietro's eyes laughed at her, gloating.

"Familiar much?" he said laughingly. "Now, babe, you're gonna tell me your powers…I know you're hiding them somewhere. You haven't got one-eye or the telepath here to save you. Show me your powers and I might be nice…or not."

Celeste glared at him, eyes burning. The bastard. The idiot. He was obviously trying to bait her. They both knew that simply struggling wouldn't release his hold on her, and that he was expecting her to fight back. It was a hopeless situation…

"Afraid, cutie? You should be," he gloated, once more blowing gently on her face, so that her flashing eyes were fully revealed.

Those stray hairs immediately fell into place…a breeze was picking up and the same leaves that Pietro had been swooping upon were eerily swirling in small eddies of wind.

"Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything."

And she disappeared. Pietro held an empty jacket in his hands as he fell forward slightly. Her top and slacks slithered onto the ground, covering her empty shoes. Where had she gone? Pietro turned around, and changed his position, body blurring out of sight, before stopping. There was laughter from above.

Celeste was perched lazily in a tree, one leg folded neatly to her chest and the other hanging idly from the branch. Despite her carefree demeanour, goosebumps were rising on her bare skin. And, ever-so-fortunately, Storm's body suit was intact…for the most part. The place where the substance had first been applied- her sternum- and where it had last reached- the small of her back- showed neat ovals, revealing pale flesh below. Overall, apart from the fact that she was freezing, it was not an entirely bad look. Pietro gaped.

"I told ya you'd get to see my powers, but I guess you get to see a hell'f a lot more, quick-boy," she said boldly, winking at him. "You're a bit slow on the uptake though…I thought y'd at least have tried to stop me."

Pietro narrowed his eyes- had she teleported? Had she phased from his grip through the tree and slipped behind him? Was she faster than him? He'd press her further. In one fluid movement, he darted forward to seize her dangling ankle and, using his momentum, swung her body off the tree to slam into the ground.

Her body, as reflexive as the moment she pressed her arms out to break her fall (though it would have cost her the use of her arms), her body exploded into a million air particles, which swirled around haphazardly. Yes, she was in complete control. This feeling of absolute freedom did not control her…she controlled the very air. She felt shreds of her being tugged away by the natural breeze, others seeping into the leaves of plants and blades of grass…she knew intimately the respiratory system as Pietro inhaled, as he panted from effort, head whipping this way and that so fast, that it caused small whirlwinds that faded within instants. He ran forward, outracing her consciousness, before settling, in front of the same tree he had pinned her against. He, too, knew to protect his back. He still held her jacket…and she needed that.

She focussed her thoughts and reformed, directly behind Pietro, as silent as the creeping draught.

"Boo," she said softly into his ear, wrapping her hands around his waist tenderly.

He flinched horribly and whipped around, causing a small twister of wind around his body. Now she was behind him, blowing gently on the back of his neck. It was so unnerving, so foreign, someone who could defeat his speed so easily, impossible to trace. He couldn't even tell how she was doing it. He dashed for cover. She scattered leaves on him from above. He stood in the middle of the small clearing and she appeared, sneaking to hold his hand, before laughing and disappearing. He gave a yell of pure frustration.

He began to run, too fast for Celeste to register. He ran in a wide circle and a tornado started, which Celeste willingly became a part of. He was so fast. Pietro was whipping up a furious tornado. No…this was bad. She arrowed downwards, part of her irresistibly drawn to the power of the tornado, to solidify on the ground. She immediately clutched for purchase. The ground had now been stripped entirely of grass as the thick-set trees around her began to creek ominously. The bright sun was blotted out as it became a whirling sandstorm and branches broke off to join the tempest.

Celeste warded off the sand with her own powers, as it sought to blind her and drown her. It was so dark and she could feel an almost solid ring around the area, as Pietro widened his circle. She couldn't even trace him. He was faster than any wind and the storm he had brought up blew at what felt like one hundred miles a minute. That ring was closing in and she pressed hard to the ground, a small field of still air protecting her from the raging winds. She pressed her eyes shut, only to open them, as the winds began to focus. The winds began to focus on her and her protective bubble. She could see a blurred, incredibly fast barrier, forming a narrow circle around her. Her mind vaguely registered it as Pietro…too fast for her powers, let alone her eyes, to register.

If he hit her at this rate, she'd be destroyed- broken and crushed by his pure momentum. She shook, her barrier of wind beginning to cave in. She should aerate…disappear…but, no, she was shaking too hard. The shaking continued and there was a loud cracking sound.

Her eyes flickered open, as light broached the curtains of sand and debris. She was on a slightly-sunken platform of earth…the hard ground around her had shattered, small pillars sinking and rising, strangely similar to the simulation she had first run in the Danger Room. In a wide circle, it was stark and empty, devoid of living greenery. Pietro was on a raised pillar of earth and was glaring towards the road, which was covered in dirt. Swallowing hard, Celeste pushed herself up. So that was what he could do, when she pushed back hard enough. Pietro stood on a raised dais of rock….he still held her jacket, though it was horribly torn and frayed, as was his clothing.

Lance and Wanda observed the scene before them. The dark-haired girl, about whom Pietro was meant to be finding information –Celeste was her name- appeared. Pietro was scowling, looking around, balanced upon a tall pillar of rock. He was exhausted, his clothes were torn and his chest heaved with the effort to pull in another painful breath. Lance had seen the familiar clouds of debris rising on a much larger scale than Pietro's frenzied running in the Brotherhood house. It had not boded well…Lance knew Pietro was making another attempt to complete the mission Magneto (or one of his lackeys) had pressed on him. It had actually been Gambit's job, but he had other X-Men to stalk…namely one Rogue.

Wanda was slightly amused, but still saw why Lance was brimming with anger. Everyone in Bayville would have seen it and, of course, it would be labelled another act of mutant aggression- a threat.

Pietro saw Lance. Lance had rocked the battlefield, but where was Celeste? She had been afraid…Pietro admitted he may have somewhat lost control. But he hadn't aimed to kill her. Had she fallen into some deep chasm in the earth and been swallowed alive? Did she lie, broken and battered, beneath some mammoth tree that had been torn up, only to crush all beneath it? Or had she merely gotten up, brushed herself off coolly and walked away?

Celeste ducked, concealed. She regained her breath and composure, but was still pale. Pietro was standing rather precariously on a stone pillar, as if surveying the damage he had done. He seemed a little pale too. The bastard! He tried to kill her! Snarling, she launched off the ground and arrowed at Pietro. She received the impression of his eyes wide in surprise, before she tackled him off the pillar, allowing her body to feel gravity again.

Pietro was winded, but relieved. She was alive and kicking- or hitting rather. She pinioned his arms with her knees and straddled his chest. He easily avoided her blows to his face, but his chest was getting a bit of a beating. Luckily, she didn't seem to have any odd physical strength.

"You- God- dam- idiot," she yelled between blows against his protectively crossed arms. "Y'-tried-t'-kill-me!"

In a moment of stillness, Celeste caught a glimpse of Pietro sneering in satisfaction. And it only took that moment for Pietro to turn under her to flip her onto her back, where she glared huffily at him, as he mimicked her exact position. He tapped her lightly on the side of the face.

"Thanks, doll. You showed me your powers…and more."

And then Wanda and Lance appeared, somewhat shocked and- in Wanda's case- infinitely entertained.

"Separate them," Lance sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

Wanda obliged with a sneer and the two quarrelling mutants were tossed backwards by some unseen power, Celeste flipping to land crouching and facing this new enemy and Pietro scraped the ground, before getting on one knee to glare at the newcomers.

"I had it under control," he snapped angrily.

"I'm sure," Wanda replied lazily, letting her eyes wander between Pietro's torn clothing and the jacket he held and Celeste's barely covered form. "Can anyone else say compromising position?"

Celeste's cheeks coloured. She never thought of these things when filled with the heat of battle…she supposed the situation was somewhat suspicious. With a growl, she made a sharp, beckoning movement with her hand and the wind snatched her jacket from Pietro's hands, conveying it straight to her. She donned it, standing up casually to review the damage. Surprisingly- with fashion being the way it was- it was still wearable…Rogue would probably want to borrow it. She shook her hair out, wincing as she registered the tangles. Finished with her preening, she turned to the two Brotherhood members. She managed a radiant smile.

"Hey there, mon amis, I'm Celeste," she said, eyes searching the scarred battlefield. "Y'must be Avalanche and…the Scarlet Witch?"

"Lance and Wanda," he offered grudgingly. "Ummm…yeah, sorry about that," he apologised awkwardly.

Of course it was awkward. The X-Men and Brotherhood weren't renowned for their friendly discourse and those few times that they had united, only seemed to widen the gulf between them. Pietro, giving a noise of dissatisfaction, was on his feet and then by the road, staring either way. He returned.

"Great work, guys. X-Geeks at eight o'clock."

And then he was gone, a blurred streak which disappeared in the general direction of the Brotherhood house.

"Merde," Celeste said in irritation, glaring down at the road.

Of course they'd come…and there'd probably be more conflict. Pietro had seen to the removal of any cover to hide her retreat- well, at least she had a way out. But the Brotherhood, if she knew their type at all, would rather invite trouble on themselves, than let the truth be known. Sure, they could easily point the finger at Celeste and probably be believed, but they wouldn't.

Lance braced himself, with Wanda at his side, prepared to defend.

"Shit Pietro…you asshole…" Lance said to himself.

Well…if it was Pietro's fault.

"You don't wanna be here," Celeste said helpfully. "Get outta here and don't be seen."

"Oh right…how's your invisibility training going Lance?" Wanda said scathingly.

Celeste shot her a glare, then, facing the sun, summoned the wind again. If she could have, she would have summoned a sand storm, like Pietro had. But she didn't seem to be able to command the wind in that way, or at least not in this form. She made a sweeping motion and a wave of wind ploughed into the ground and, like a wave crashing on the beach, a spray of sand went up, hanging in the air. She repeated the motion, until the air was full of drifting dust, choking and dense. But it was already falling.

"Scram," Celeste advised, bushing off the ground with her bare feet and floating into the sky expertly. Lance gave a nod of understanding- after all, they'd just saved her ass.

"See you around," Lance said, before grabbing Wanda's hand.

Wanda managed a small smile, before turning and running, disappearing quickly into the sand cloud. She flew slowly upwards, maintaining the cloud, to get a glimpse of Jean, Scott, Kitty, Kurt, Rogue and Bobby in full uniform- they'd probably just come from Danger Room training. She began to fly back to the Institute. She could be back in her room by the time they'd finished searching the area. She would claim ignorance of the occurrence. She'd probably be busted for skipping Danger Room, but that'd be easy runnings when compared to the consequences of tearing up a square mile or so of public land.

(0o)

Kitty stared at what she had found, surprised. Did she do this…? What had happened this morning? She had missed Danger Room, but no-one had searched her out.

"Have you found something, Kitty?" Jean called out, approaching her.

Kitty gave a squeak of surprise and, back turned to Jean, desperately sought somewhere to hide her find. Of course, there was no where she could discretely hide it in her uniform, which clung to her body. Desperately, she made a poor show of tripping, phasing the incriminating item into the ground.

Jean's control over her powers had very much improved. The moment Kitty's foot twisted, she had reached a hand out and, with her telekinesis, halted her fall, before rather forcibly placing her back upright. She stared from the ground to Kitty, then shook her head disgustedly. She transmitted the message to the rest of the group.

'Call off the search. I know what happened here.'

She made a jerking motion with her head at Kitty, and Kitty turned regretfully, following her back to the X-Van. A corner of Celeste's bold blue scarf fluttered in the breeze, half-phased into the shattered ground.

(0o)

A/N: I was, originally, intending for Celeste to whip up a big cloud of sand and allow Lance and Wanda to escape, but still be there when the X-Men got there; however, I don't want her showing that much control over her powers, in being able to keep a cloud of small, solid particles airborne. Instead, I made it more crude- more like when you hit the ground with a baseball bat and sand goes up…if you understand, at all! What happened this chapter: Storm prepares Celeste's uniform; Celeste skips Danger Room and there's a massive fight with Pietro, wherein she reveals her powers; Pietro exhibits his own destructive capabilities, but Lance and Wanda step in and unwittingly save Celeste from his recklessness and, in return, Celeste helps them escape, when the X-Men head to find the source of the trouble- they find no-one, but Kitty finds and tries to conceal Celeste's scarf, but Jean manages to find out. Next chapter? Well then…I'd better get going and find the scribbled down notes I wrote!


	10. Blurring the Lines

A/N: Just a note: I've made most of the characters stronger than in the Evolution series. According to my warped timeline, when things like Asteroid M and Apocalypse occurred, all the main characters were younger by one year (crazy, I know, but that's not the focus). In the time between the end of the last series and my fiction, the X-Men have been off liberating mutants, training hard and preparing for the major occurrence. The Brotherhood has been being prepared and Magneto- through the renewed alliance with Mystique- has been extending his hand into governments, anti-mutant organisations…Guilds…dunh, dunh, dunh!

(o0)

Celeste had gone back to her room, cleaned up and changed, then waited. The tension had been killing her…any moment now, she expected Jean to come barging in, Wolverine with claws extended or, entirely worse, Professor Xavier, with disappointment etched in the lines of his face. So she had left, travelling the long way to Bayville High, flying just above the canopy of the woods, before settling to walk the rest of the way. Still, that morning she was nervous…

It was a blessing that the older students didn't seem to be coming to school- or, at least, not arriving until later.

The popularity of her first day seemed to have faded and she was lonely in her classes- though Amanda did keep her company in English. At the first break, there was no sign of the X-Men yet, so she wandered over to watch the athletes doing track, an odd feeling in her stomach. She leaned casually against the metal rail, watching as a group of younger girls in cheerleader uniforms ran out onto the field, obviously following the lead of the girl with the most makeup and the shortest skirt. Boredly, she moved her hand slightly and all their skirts were blown upwards by a sudden gust of wind- except for the leader's skimpy skirt. There was a unified cry of shock and a cheer from a group in the stands…they had their own leader. An older jock called Duncan, who was supposedly too stupid to even finish school. All the cheerleaders glared at their leader, muttering mutinously. Curiously, she redirected the wind, to carry a snatch of their words.

"Do you think she's a mutie?"

"I never liked her…"

Celeste narrowed her eyes. No wonder people tried to conceal their mutancy. It was a bloody witch hunt out here. With a nonchalant flip of her hand, she sent a stronger uplift, to flick all the girls' skirts up. After the mandatory cry, they all laughed then continued their jog, worries forgotten. Celeste bit her lip nervously, as it became clear that this was an inadequate distraction. Something wasn't right. She hadn't felt this sickness in a long time…trouble was coming.

"Hey," a husky voice said from behind her and Celeste turned her head slightly.

"Hey," Celeste replied to Wanda, who joined her leaning on metal rail.

"Thanks for this morning," Wanda offered, eyes also focussed on the laughing cheerleaders, now stretching and warming up.

"I think I should be thanking you," Celeste said, a hint of a smile on her face. "You two totally saved my ass."

"We didn't even know you were there. We just thought Pietro had finally cracked and gone nuts."

There was silence, punctuated by the distant gun shot, as a practice race began. Celeste rolled her shoulders and turned, leaning against the rail with her back to the wide oval.

"Why would he crack? He seems pretty pleased with himself to me."

"You noticed?" Wanda said with a harsh laugh. "You'd think that, wouldn't you…but I think his powers are getting to him. He's been looking to pick fights everywhere…he's gonna get himself killed one day."

"Mmm…" Celeste said neutrally, but her curiosity aroused. "He does seem to rub people th' wrong way."

"In other words, he's a narcissistic prick…except he doesn't have an audience anymore. Most people are too scared to talk to him- hell, to even look at him."

"And that's tends to bring out the show-off side in most of us…under the age of eight, anyway. He used to getting' all that attention?"

"Yeah…he used to have all the girls wrapped around his little finger…not that he cared for any of them," Wanda said, with a smile.

"S'pose it'd get boring if everyone who looked at ya tended to be a bit on the slow side."

'Like going out with a new Benoit every week…' she thought to herself empathically. 'Slow as a laid brick.'

"Exactly- he pretty much only talks to us and just talks crap to anyone else. Supposedly, he used to love basketball…but most places have mutant bans set now."

"Supposedly?"

"Oh," Wanda replied, blushing slightly, embarrassed. "I kinda missed him growing up…I was in an asylum."

"And you're saner than any of these humans here…" Celeste said with a smile. "Or maybe I'm just as crazy as you."

Wanda returned that smile…Most people would have, at the very least, edged away discretely. Most people would think that she should book a one-way bus trip back to the loony-bin. This girl just accepted it…even complimented her. She sighed as the high-pitched bell rang, signalling the masses for their next class.

"I gotta go," Wanda said, then, impulsively, continued. "You know- humans aren't exactly leaping at friendship, so feel free to come talk to us sometime- the Brotherhood that is. Ignore Pietro."

"Oh…I dunno…" Celeste said playfully. "I'd have to see if my keepers would let me…"

"I'm sure you can escape their clutches and wreak as much havoc as you did this morning," Wanda countered. "I'll see you!"

"Seeya," Celeste called out, as Wanda turned to leave, glowing red coat flaring in her wake.

The feeling of illness seemed to have faded with this invitation of companionship.

(0o)

Rogue and Kitty assimilated themselves within the crowded confines of the hall, Kitty discretely phasing Rogue through anyone who may bump into her. They managed to break into a clearer hall, searching out their lockers. A chilly Jean and prattling Scott had just dropped them off at school, with firm orders to ensure Celeste's safety and that she got back to the Institute on time…so she could be duly killed. They kept a sharp eye out for her.

"Wanda!" Rogue called suddenly, as she saw a flash of bold red turn the corner.

Wanda reappeared, looking surprised. Despite the distance between their two groups, the younger students didn't seem to have the same qualms about associating with the 'enemy'. Well, at least Wanda didn't have a problem. However, she didn't seem to be able to warm to Kitty, despite her attempts at friendliness. So she simply ignored her pleasant greeting.

"What's up, Rogue?"

"Have yah seen the new girl- Celeste- today?" Rogue queried, reassuringly squeezing the upset Kitty's arm.

Wanda looked taken aback.

"I've seen a bit of her actually," she said, the side of her mouth quirking. "Are you guys her keepers?"

Rogue snorted.

"Hardly- she's gone a bit missin' since this mornin'. When did ya last see her?"

"Just then, when she was looking lonely on the track and this morning, when Pietro ambushed and tried to kill her…we saved her ass and she saved ours, when you guys came along, all dolled up for a battle."

"Whoa there- you guys were there as well? She's in so much crap already!"

"Hey, kid- blame Pietro. We crashed their little party," Wanda snapped at Kitty, who shut her mouth in confused dismay. "Rogue, I gotta run."

She swept away, intent on reaching her art class.

"Oh come on- what did I ever do to her?" Kitty cried out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "And don't you _dare _know the truth!"

Rogue nodded. Wanda had not confided her reasoning, but, for about sixteen months now, she couldn't spare a kind word for Kitty. But what interested her was Celeste's sudden relationship to the Brotherhood… They'd saved her and she'd saved them. Pietro and Celeste's 'little party'…?

"Definitely not," Rogue said indignantly. "But Ah'm definitely curious 'bout this…"

Kitty shrugged disconsolately. The hallways were nearly empty now and they separated to head to their classes.

(0o)

_Flashback_

_Blue eyes met dark eyes and Celeste smothered a giggle and ducked her head again. The next time she peeked over the barrier, Etienne's grin widened and he grabbed her, thrusting his arms through the hedge- in the park of some private property, currently untenanted- to catch her as she gave a cry of mock horror._

"_Etienne Le Beau- I label dat as damage t' public property," she said, escaping his clutches to glare at him through the large hole he'd broken in the hedge. "You're a dangerous criminal and should be locked up!"_

"_Y'offerin' to lock me up?" Etienne said, crossing his arms with scornful bravado. "Dis boy doesn't fall fo' you're tricks, Celeste."_

_Obediently, Celeste ducked her head for a moment then looked up, tendrils of her raven locks curling around her face. Her rouged bottom lip trembled slightly and her eyes gleamed, as she held her hands to her chest defensively._

"_Please Etienne…" she murmured, casting her eyes down again, demure._

_Etienne's heart caught in his throat. She looked so vulnerable and afraid…he knew it was only an act, but he longed to hold her tight and bring a smile to her face. He thrust himself through the already broken and battered hedge to lunge at her, as she slipped out of his grasp. A game of tag ensued, as Celeste- a laughing, teasing nymph- lead her dark-eyed suitor in a whirling game. Etienne lunged forward successfully this time, and they tumbled to the grass…they rolled to a stop, gasping for breath, Celeste's hair splayed over the grass and her cheeks flushed and Etienne by her side, his hands wrapped protectively around her waist._

_Celeste's blue eyes were wide in wonderment, and she closed them slightly, as Etienne's lips lowered to meet hers._

_End Flashback_

Kitty walked into the class room, ignoring the scowl of the teacher and comment on why she could inflict chaos but not get to class on time, her robin-egg blue eyes sweeping to narrow on Celeste, who seemed to have not noticed her appearance. She was focussed on a lazy cloud, drifting in the otherwise blue sky… It was not until Kitty was right next to her, seizing her arm urgently, that she turned around, surprised.

"What, like, happened to you this morning? We turned up to that place- it was all ripped up by like a sandstorm or something- but you weren't there- Wanda said that you had been there and you were in a fight- and I found your scarf and tried to hide it but Jean found it and went to the Professor and she said that you'd caused all that damage because it didn't look like anyone else had-"

"I thought I'd left something there…" Celeste murmured dreamily, shocking Kitty out of her urgent, whispered story.

"In other words, you are going to be totally screwed over when you get back! I mean…you should be okay if you tell the Professor what happened- what _did _happen?"

"Oh," Celeste said, brow furrowing as if trying to recall the facts. "I was walking t' school and Pietro ambushed me…he's d' one who ripped up all those trees and that. I didn't do anythin' wrong…I s'pose I left all my clothes there though."

Kitty winced. That wouldn't hold up under the scrutiny of Wolverine, who was eagre for blood this morning, or Professor Xavier, who seemed curious about any simple occurrence between any of his students and the Brotherhood. He'd probably look out for her though…

"Alright, Celeste…I'll stop bugging you, because I know you're nuts…Just make sure to make an appearance to Scott and Jean like, as soon as school's out…you do not want them coming to look for you…else they'll ask me what happened and I'll tell them!" Kitty paused. "…and I _so_ do not want to know why you skipped Danger Room to lose your clothes with Pietro, especially if Wanda and Lance were, like, watching you…"

This snapped Celeste out of her nostalgic daydream.

"Kitty Pryde! It is most certainly not like that!" she cried out, drowned by the clattering of chairs as students- loud as usual- headed out the door to escape the school for the weekend.

"Tell me it's not," Kitty challenged, before rushing for the doors and pushing through the students to get away from her, as she let out a growl of frustration.

_Flashback_

"_Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap," Kitty repeated to herself, running through the empty hallway._

_She was late for class…really late. And if she didn't turn up at all, she'd be busted for skipping classes. Dammit! She'd spent all lunch searching for Celeste, only to be held up by Principal Kelly, who insisted on lecturing her about being late for classes and making snide references to her mutancy. She phased her locker open, only to have it slammed shut and Pietro leaning on it in front of her._

"_Move it or I'll phase you in and leave you there," she growled. "I haven't got time for your crap, Quicksilver."_

"_That hurts Kitty-cat," Pietro simpered. "But I'm not here to bother you…you seen the new girl today?"_

_Kitty glared._

"_What's it to you?" she taunted. "If you have ideas that she's going to spare a moment for crap like you, then you've got a whole new thing coming. She's in so much trouble already because of the stunt you pulled this morning."_

"_Why?" Pietro said quizzically, wincing at Kitty's tone._

"_She's probably gonna be chucked out because you and your freakin' team ripped up the street- jeez, Lance really has to get a collar on you…you're out of control."_

_Pietro looked slightly hurt, but didn't leave. Kitty was in a really bad mood- she had been lectured by Jean and Scott for an hour this morning for covering up for her friend and wasn't able to cope. Shrugging, she vindictively phased Pietro into her locker, then phased the metal door into the rest of it._

"_Listen Pietro," she whispered into the crack of her locker. "I don't know what you're trying to pull by damn well trying to kill Celeste, but she's way above you. Just stay away from her and tell the rest of you losers to stay away from her and there'll be no problems. Got it?"_

_There was a retaliatory punch of the door from the inside, denting it. Kitty snickered before skipping off, already in a better mood. Sure, it wouldn't hold him for long, but she needed a new locker anyway- it would just be another anti-mutant, petty attack._

_Pietro was still in the locker, thinking hard. The bell rang outside and he punched the locker hard, ten, twenty, thirty times in moments, as it exploded outwards. He dashed out, before anyone could see him and began to run fast through the hallways, not stopping, not wanting to stop._

_End Flashback_

Her and Pietro? What a joke! Sure…the guy had looks, wit and probably above average intelligence…but the arrogance and the impatience…she didn't really mind at all…and the fact that it had already been forbidden to her…well, Pietro was actually quite the treat, in Celeste's mind. Shame about the fact that he'd attempted to kill her, a negative trait in a relationship, if ever there was one.

Celeste waited until the rest of the class had filed out, leaning boredly against the wall…she'd accept Jean's lecture or punishment gladly…but she was in no hurry to avail herself of their mercy. She trudged to her locker, when- to her infinite delight and annoyance- she felt a familiar gust of wind blow past her. She stopped, hooking one finger in her jeans jauntily, to stare down the empty hall. A moment later, she was literally swept off her feet. She cried out and closed her eyes, then found herself deposited on her feet again and her knees folded. Her whole body was aching and she panted for breath, before looking angrily up at her captor.

"Not everyone's built t' run like you, quickboy."

"Well whose fault is that, slowpoke?" he said, mockingly, before pulling her to her feet again, turning her to look at either side of her face, then in her eyes. "You alright?"

"What do you care?" Celeste said sulkily, brushing her knees free of grass…apparently, she'd been dumped on some grassy hill on the school property.

"Mmm…just making sure you're undamaged…" Pietro said unconvincingly. "And to tell you not to speak to Wanda."

"What?" Celeste said, feeling a hot rush of anger.

"Don't speak to her…or Lance…or any of the Brotherhood…or me," Pietro said clearly, as if to an infant.

"I'll speak to who I want to," Celeste said equally clearly, as if Pietro was misunderstanding something.

Pietro grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and held her close. It wasn't violent, but it was authoritative.

"Listen…I went a bit crazy this morning and you got saved- but don't think you're friendly with us. You X-Men stay away from us and we stay away from you- those are the rules. They always have been and if you break them you're only going to get shit from both sides."

"Nice to know you care," Celeste spat back at him, not bothering to change or even struggle. "But I'm not taking orders from you."

"Then take orders from your leaders…you can't play in the shit and come out smelling like roses, Celeste, it doesn't work like that."

"Who says you're shit? Who says I'm perfect, heh?" Celeste retorted.

Pietro released his old on her collar, turning his face away.

"You have no idea," he said savagely. "You and your X-Men acting all superior…all moral and heroic when you're not. You haven't had to suffer…that's what divides you from the rest of the mutants…we're not the same."

"Suffer? Who hasn't suffered?" Celeste said with a humourless laugh. "I've suffered as a human…I've suffered as a mutant. What does it matter? Not everyone in de' X-Men has had a bright path anyway! Why shouldn't I be able to talk to you…or anyone? What's de matter- don't like my company?"

"It's not that…but…It's best…trust me on that…" he said, holding her hand for a moment, before releasing it.

He turned to run, but, as he took a breath, he felt a constricting power seize him. He was held and lifted and his feet trod empty air as he struggled.

"Don't touch her," a voice, cold as winter's breath, said.

Celeste turned- it was Jean…Kitty had told her that she wouldn't like it if Jean came looking and oh, she didn't like it indeed. Jean held Pietro off the ground with her telekinesis, one hand outstretched, almost accusingly.

"Kitty told me what happened…don't worry, you're not in trouble," Jean said, reassuringly, to Celeste. "I'm just gonna make sure you don't have that problem again."

Celeste could only gape- what exactly had Kitty said to her? Pietro still struggled, against the unseen forced and Jean narrowed her eyes, concentrating on holding him still and Pietro hung lax in invisible bonds. His eyes glared at Jean, angry and hopeless. Celeste raised her hand and made a slashing movement, sending a buffeting wind, which knocked Pietro from Jean's grasp and sent him spiralling upwards and away from them to land somewhere out of sight.

"Merci, Jean," Celeste simpered, as if she had, indeed, rescued her. "I'm sorry if ya were worried…"

Jean looked surprised and placated. Celeste looked down to cover the expression of intense concentration on her face. Celeste swallowed, feeling slightly dizzy, before looking up once more- well aware that her ploy had worked.

"I was only going to scare him a bit," Jean said, with an uncharacteristic smirk. "But your way works too."

Celeste let the faintest blush touch her cheeks, and then put on an expression of dumb gratitude. Obediently, she padded after Jean, who beckoned her after her. She honestly hoped that Jean didn't take the opportunity to see into her head…

Pietro shook himself off, unable to believe he was unharmed. Grey had started to really put the squeeze on him and he had been fresh out of ideas. He had been buffeted out of her grasp, whirling into space with a yell of panic and disbelief, as the ground rose incredibly fast to meet him. The same force that had wrested him from Jean Grey's telekinetic grasp rose from the ground, a pillar of embracing air, to cradle him, before dumping him on the hard cement, about a metre from it.

He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was smooth and sleek as it usually was. He'd have a bruise, but it was better than a set of cracked ribs. But he felt no pain…because Celeste didn't seem to care that he was a Brotherhood loser and, for some insane reason, he didn't seem to care that she was one of the X-Men.

(o0)

A/N: Alright then, the review: Celeste gets friendly with Wanda and Kitty gets unfriendly with Pietro…Celeste and Pietro, who, of course, despise each other, have a chat about why they can't feel any other way and Jean crashes the party- Celeste pretends to attack Pietro to humour Jean and Pietro comes to an amazing realisation; next chapter? More Celeste and Pietro and Celeste leaves the mansion for the night…and the chapters after? We leave the little sub-plot of Pietro and Celeste and go onto the next stage: Gambit and Celeste encounter one another and what occurs from that.


	11. No Boundaries

A/N: New chapter! Umm…hinted naughtiness of the grown-up variety in here, but I think I had the correct rating up and, if not, I'll change it. This signals the opening of the next major plot! Please enjoy and, if you loved it, or hated it, or even looked at it, please review! I thrive on your compliments, flames and neutral comments.

(o0)

"Oh…" Jubilee sighed, disconsolately. "I wanted him…"

Celeste's eyes widened and she rolled over on her bed and the room and its occupants righted themselves. She shook her head to clear the dizziness out.

"Are you stupid? It ain't like that at all, Jubs! Y' can have him, if ya think he'll be anythin' great. 'Sides, I thought you liked your guys nice…after all, Bobby is a nice guy."

"Whoa there- Jubilee you like Bobby?" Rogue intercepted, before Jubilee could change the subject. "Iceboy?"

"Awww…" Kitty cooed, predictably. "That is so sweet…I think Bobby totally likes you!"

"You think?" Jubilee said, unable to quash the hopefulness in her voice, before the other girls laughed.

Celeste looked at the younger girl fondly. She had just cut her hair rather drastically and it was in stylish disarray, gleaming with the pink-tinted gel she'd messed through it. Rogue and Kitty had dragged Celeste away from the other, curious students to interrogate her in her own room. Jubilee had, with a mixture of cajoling and threats, had bullied her way in. The young Asian girl was quite the little actress.

Rogue sat bolt upright, as her mobile rang from the pocket of her jeans and Kitty raised an eyebrow, as she hurriedly pulled it out. Celeste opened her mouth in question, but Jubilee cut her off, motioning urgently for her to keep quiet.

"Hey you…" Rogue purred into the phone, and Jubilee made false gagging movements- Rogue glared and stepped away. "Ah'm good, yah know me- nothin' keeps me down…Ah s'pose we'd be fahne for tomorrow mornin'- oh, no?"

Kitty's grin widened and she muffled what seemed to be some high-pitched sound of delight, which emerged as a muffled giggle. Jubilee clapped a hand on her mouth.

"Tonaght Gambit?" Rogue continued, from the corner of the room she'd isolated herself in. "Y'd better get me back in tahme or you know what'll happen…no, ya idiot Cajun, you'll be the one gutted…and don't you _chere_ me! Anyone with me? Nah…'course not! …alraght, I'll get out bah then and I s'pose Ah'll bring someone for the big guy too…Ah hate yah too, Gambit…"

Rogue shut her phone, grinning. Kitty pried Jubilee's hand off her mouth then giggled again.

"I'm guessing that was _so_ not Irene!" she crowed. "Tell me you're gonna take me tonight!"

"Yeah, Kit, Ah'll take you. You and Piotre can make eyes at each other and play the killjoys all nahght, if you really want to."

Jubilee let out a growl.

"This is not fair! You all get paired with the hot guys-"

"I'm not with Pietro!" Celeste inserted matter-of-factly.

"-and I get stuck keeping Amara and Rahne off each others throats!" Jubilee finished and, pushing herself to her feet, stormed off.

They stared after her.

"Gambit…?" Celeste said inquisitively.

"He's one of the Acolytes- Magneto's lot. Ah'm pretty sure that all the teachers know, but the rest of 'em are in the dark. We've been t'gether for a whahle now and Kitty's got her eyes on another- Colossus. Big Russian guy."

"He paints," Kitty said, as if that explained her entire attraction.

"And I thought I was bein' naughty with Pietro…" Celeste exclaimed in wonderment.

Two sets of eyes targeted her.

"Oh…so you and Pietro are-" Kitty began.

"Not together!" Celeste said firmly and pointed to the door.

Kitty and Rogue, still snickering, left to plan their escape for later that night.

(0o)

Gambit's eyes glowed like smouldering coals, as they swept over the area. Hands, clothes by gloves, with the fingers cut off, drummed impatiently on the wheel as he shook his head to the side, tossing dark hair from his face. Despite this inherent wariness, he wore a twisted grin…he loved this game and he knew that Rogue loved it too. He'd park discreetly outside the mansion, clothed in shadow, and Rogue- sometimes accompanied by her friend, Kitty- would appear. She'd scale the wall or phase through, using borrowed powers. It was fun. But the challenge had gone out of it when Rogue, having been kept up late on a 'date' with him, was reminded by Professor Xavier not to miss curfew, whether she was going out with a Harvard graduate or a card-playing, thieving mutant. So, she'd been given the all clear. Behind him, Piotre was blessedly silent, waiting for his own significant other

His eyes flickered towards the shadow of the wall again, to normal eyes, adequate to hide. For his own, glowing eyes, he easily pierced this flimsy camouflage. But Remy didn't say anything…he just watched.

There was a muffled thump, followed by a giggle and the familiar sound of Rogue's husky voice, cursing as she stood up again.

Remy grinned and Piotre opened the door of the car, only to have a giggling Shadowcat phase through it and virtually drop herself onto his lap. Each blushed and they were quick to untangle themselves. Rogue sat down with a sigh of relief and Remy immediately seized her possessively and gave her the lightest and quickest of kisses to the side of her mouth.

"Not when ya drivin', Cajun," Rogue admonished him, as she felt the pull of her powers.

"Ya forgive me already?" Gambit said, seriously.

"Huh?…'course I do, ya dumb Cajun- now let's go before we get seen!"

"Gambit's already been seen, chere," he smirked. "Rogue got many guys waitin' for her at night?"

At that, he flicked the headlights on, piercing the shadows to gleam on the barricade of the Institute's grounds. There was no sign of any presence, but leaves swirled, as if something had plucked them from their stupor on this windless night. Kitty stuck her head forward, deliberately putting a finely-manicured hand on Piotre's leg as her face appeared between Rogue and Remy.

"Pietro's here for someone else," she said, grinning wickedly.

(o0)

Celeste stalked around her room boredly- she happened to have lost most of her school books and, undoubtedly, they'd have been torn to pieces. She added that to the list of things that Pietro did to piss her off: the loss of her schoolwork meant that she had to find something to fill up the void. She'd been avoiding Scott and, surprisingly, Jean had helped her. It seemed quite a way to go to secure Celeste's allegiance to her. But Jean could only hold the leader up for so long, before he came, demanding his own briefing. It wasn't safe outside the sanctuary of this room. Her windows had been thrown wide open and, occasionally, she'd flit over to gulp at the fresh air, before resuming her pacing. Pietro…another thing that made her angry; he confused and puzzled her. And that was unforgivable.

Celeste sighed and sat on her window seal, straddling it. The night was cold and clear and blessedly lonely. She was tempted to fly away, but she was attempting to forge good relations with the team leaders. She had realised that, if she was to stay with the X-Men, she simply couldn't flout the rules at every opportunity, no matter the temptation.

Her eyes snapped to the door, which made a clicking sound. Why wasn't she surprised? Putting on an expression of surprise, she dropped sideways, out the window. A hand sealed around her wrist, before she'd fallen a metre, but she'd already started to fly backwards. And, so, Pietro was dragged out by the momentum. Dangling twenty feet above the ground holding onto Pietro's arm with both hands, she chuckled.

"It's the thought that counts, love," she said, wincing as Pietro's weight pulled her down, but she swung him into the room, before joining him.

"Well that was stupid," Pietro said, his voice racing as fast as Celeste's heart. "You do know that I could have let you fall."

"Really? Shame…I should have let you fall then, Pietro," Celeste teased. "But stupid is rockin' up to de house of your enemy and sneakin' into a nice gal's room."

"You are not a nice girl," Pietro said firmly, before zipping over to toss himself onto her bed.

He propped himself on his elbow to scrutinise her. Celeste scowled, placing one hand on her hip to return his inspecting gaze. Sighing heavily, when he did not look away, Celeste hopped on the bed to sit cautiously on the edge of the bed.

"Why are ya here, Pietro?" she sighed.

"A thank you and an apology…" Pietro said embarrassedly, when Celeste cocked an eyebrow. "Thanks for rescuing me from that bitch yesterday and sorry for going all crazy on you. Twice. In a day."

Celeste smiled- not a mocking one, or one of her convincing, fake smiles. Maybe Pietro wasn't such a jerk anyway.

"No problems- just don't do it again," she ordered, wagging a threatening finger at Pietro.

"Scout's honour," he said, smiling back mischievously.

Celeste snorted, as the image of a young Pietro helping an old lady across the street flashed through her mind.

"You're an idiot," she pointed out, swatting at him.

Pietro, of course, dodged, and swatted her back and, of course, was successful. Celeste couldn't resist the challenge and tried again, only to be parried back. Pietro laughed.

"Too slow, Celeste," he said mockingly, grinning.

"You rely too much on your powers," Celeste countered, a wicked smile curving over her face.

Through the open window, a gust of icy air blew, directly at Pietro, who closed his eyes and flinched automatically, raising his arms to defend himself fruitlessly. And in that moment, Celeste had dived over the bed to grab Pietro, who stumbled backwards as Celeste flew at him, and they hit the door to her room with a loud thud. Celeste arms were around Pietro's neck and she looked up at him, suddenly aware of how very close they were, as the wind died down.

"I'm catchin' up, aren't I?" she said shyly, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes.

Pietro's hand raised and he gingerly lifted her chin up, so that her face was directed to his.

"Don't stop," he murmured, and he was lowering his face and Celeste did not pull away, even as sadness filled her heart.

_I got away from New Orleans, Eti…but I still need to get away from you…_

Celeste returned Pietro's kiss- a hungry meeting of lips. Celeste found herself being directed backwards and Pietro's hands roamed her body and she clung to him, as if afraid to let go. She felt something solid behind her knees and fell backwards onto her bed and Pietro followed her, hands hesitantly catching at the hem of her shirt, before sliding underneath to brush his fingers against the bare skin of her sides. Those hands were possessive, and they ran up her back and, almost urgently, to her hips, as he sought to claim her. Celeste felt a twinge of alarm, of doubt, which was quickly quashed as she purred with pleasure. Not to be outdone, she turned, flipping Pietro onto his back, to straddle his hips, planting kneading hands on his chest; as she leaned down to claim his lips and mouth once more.

There was an urgent pounding at the door, just before it was pushed open…

(o0)

"Kit…" Rogue said, gritting her teeth in anger.

"Yeah…" Kitty said nervously, craning her neck to look to the doors to the blackened cinema.

"Y'ever get a feeling that someone paid for ya movie and popcorn, then decided t'go?"

Kitty swallowed hard.

"Yeah…"

Rogue and Kitty were bolting up the aisle within moments of this short conversation, bursting through the doors into the warm light of the foyer. Keen eyes swept the area and discerned no signs of the Acolytes, who had invited them out that night.

"Damnit, Gambit!" Rogue yelled out loud, receiving a few frightened looks.

It had been an hour and a half since they'd left the Mansion and, for the last half hour, Gambit and Piotre had been going for drinks…but they hadn't come back. Something was up.

"Oh crap," Kitty said, panic-stricken. "We are so screwed!"

Rogue's mobile vibrated in her pocket and, scowling, she opened the message.

'_You forgave me already, chere…watch the movie, it's safer there tonight.'_

Damn the Acolytes for caring for them.

(o0)

Pietro yelled as he felt his body being torn to pieces….millions and millions of swirling pieces. It was such an alien feeling, but it didn't hurt. The next thing he knew, he was dumped onto a bed once more, except it was in a different room.

And he was only wearing his boxers

Celeste rolled off him to retch dryly, clutching her head as the room spun around. Pietro was immediately there, grabbing her arm as she almost fell sidewards. Her body was slick with sweat and she panted for breath. She shook him off and sat heavily on the ground.

"Wait- just wait- one second…" she said, confused.

Slowly, the room ground to a halt and Pietro's concerned face came into focus. Perhaps she was slightly delirious, or she had let Pietro go further than she intended, but he seemed to be wearing nothing but his boxers. No wait…when she had desperately grabbed hold of Pietro, she had been aiming to transform his physical body, but not his clothes. And it seemed that she, although she seemed to be able to call upon her powers in a pinch, she wasn't able to adequately save her dignity. She grabbed a fluffy white towel, draped over the end of Rogue's bed (for she had taken them to Rogue and Kitty's room) to cover her own, barely-clad form.

Pietro, predictably, leered and seemed perfectly content to continue what they'd been doing in her own room. As his hands reached for her, she took a step back. Her expression was one of anguish and, almost, self-disgust. She had wanted to forget about Etienne in that moment…to forget what they had shared and toss their time together away, by attempting to fill in the lonely void that he had left…and Pietro had wanted her to- and she knew close to nothing about him. Pietro's face was also confused, and slightly hurt, when Celeste turned away from him.

"You'd better go…someone was lookin' for me…" she said quietly.

"Celeste…" Pietro breathed out, perplexed by this sudden change.

"Pietro…ya might not understand yet, but it's sometime better to take these things slow."

By the time she'd said the last word, she'd vanished and so had Pietro, the room empty and the door swinging.

(0o)

Celeste reappeared in the bathroom near her room and grabbed a towel. Flicking some water over her face, she sauntered out, only to be intercepted by Jean. She put on her best smile and stopped.

"Hello Je-"

"Celeste, we've got a mission. Magneto and his Acolytes have appeared at the Bayville Docks and I can't find Rogue or Kitty! You probably shouldn't be going yet, but we need you to get into uniform and be in the garage two minutes ago- now go!"

Celeste paused only for a moment, and then sprinted to her room. She pulled on the one-piece suit, which would remain on her body, should she need to change her form. She made a mental note not to try the same trick on a member of her own team- it would be somewhat awkward for any person to be naked on the battlefield, enemy or ally. Storm had not queried the fact that two openings had mysteriously appeared on her uniform, signifying that she had changed before the twenty-four hour period had finished. Two, tight-fitting sleaves of the same material slipped neatly onto her arms and a pair of long, stocking like leggings fitted snugly, moulded to her form. Two cuffs were attached to her wrists, joined to the middle of her back by a stretch of parachute-like material, had been guaranteed to increase her speed and stopping capabilities, when flying in battle.

And, with a flash of pride, she slipped her belt, bearing the glowing symbol of the X-Men, around her waist. She leapt out of her window and spread her arms, marvelling the feel of the air over her streamlined body and taking note to thank Storm once more. She flew over the mansion, pushing off the apex of the tall building, to drop the dizzying height to the driveway. As a column of air rose to brake her fall, the stretches of fabric between her arms and back filled and flared and she landed neatly.

Kurt appeared, in his natural form, tail lashing and pointed ears perked. Storm, too, flew down, her wide cape whipped into movement. Jean and Scott arrived, just as Wolverine ground the car to a screeching halt in front of the young X-Men.

"Are we going or not?" he growled impatiently.

(o0)

A/N: The review: Kitty and Rogue go out with Piotre and Remy and are deliberately ditched; Pietro rocks up to the mansion and Celeste receives him; nearly caught, they separate, unsure where each other stood. Celeste is called on her first mission, as Magneto and his Acolytes make an appearance on city outskirts! Please review, or at least keep reading my story…


	12. You!

A/N: Okay, more on powers for this scene. In X-Men Evo, Pyro seemed to only be able to wield flame, when it was coming from a source. That time that Wolverine slashed up his flame thrower, he was automatically rendered powerless. My Pyro will have the craziness, but a severe cutting down on these 'Aussie' slang words (sheila, mate, dingo…you know). I'm Aussie and, honestly, only performers speak like that. Pyro is able to wield flame, like in the original comic and even the movie- he can hold a ball of flame and increase or decrease, mould and shape it, at his will and he doesn't need a constant source. Magneto's powers are the same. Kurt ports, does acrobatics, the lot…Jean can probably exercise control over pretty heavy objects, but she'd not going to be lifting a jumbo jet, unless it's about to fall on her or whatever. Let's say Scott is a little more buff, so he doesn't only rely on his fancy eyes! Bobby isn't using his solid ice-form at this stage, but has excellent control of his powers. Gambit is still super cool…card-chargin', hard-hittin' Ragin' Cajun!

(o0)

Storm flew high above the X-Van, borne by high winds, which lead the X-Men to their goal. She could feel the link with Celeste thrumming with anticipatory excitement and, if Celeste had known that the door opened both ways, Celeste would have sensed Storm's own misgivings.

She had encountered the Acolytes before, in combat and as allied forces against Apocalypse. They were not all as dedicated to Magneto as it may once have seemed and, since she'd seen Gambit, she began to understand why. She had known Gambit years ago, though he would not recognise her in this form. An adversary-- had transformed her into a child- an amnesiac child. She had encountered Gambit in Cairo and, unwittingly, been returned to her normal form through his assistance and that of the Thieves Guild. But that young, fair-haired child, Stormy, could certainly not be the regal, storm goddess she was now. So she had not remembered herself to him and he had not said a word, though he had often looked at her curiously.

But this was not what disturbed her.

Magneto obviously wanted them to come to him- his appearance was a summons to Charles Xavier. Perhaps, there would be battle…perhaps, there would be talk alone…perhaps there would be both. But the reappearance of Magneto, almost a year since the demise of Apocalypse, was a harbinger of difficult times ahead. She saw them now, in a clearing formed amongst all of the empty and full shipping containers, which crowded Bayville's docks. It wasn't actually part of Bayville, but about six miles out of town.

She withdrew her communications piece and spoke into it.

"I see them," she said loudly, over the winds. "You may want to get-"

There was a strangled yell and Storm's piece crackled with static.

(0o)

From the backseat of X-Van, flanked by the Iceman and Nightcrawler, Celeste yelled out an unheard warning, just as a flying strip of thick metal struck her, dragging her down. At that moment, the X-Van swerved to a stop and everyone was getting out- porting, levitating, and forming long slides of ice. The moment Celeste was out, she ran and leapt into flight, easily ascending to a higher position. It had begun to rain, fat drops which blurred the eyesight and concealed the foe. She focussed her concentration and made a long slicing movement with her hand and, for a moment, the thick curtains of rain opened before her and she saw the scene with the eyes of a hawk.

Storm hung in mid-air, not flying, but held. Metal pinioned her arms to her side, with crushing weight that Storm could not escape. So far, she was only being held, but, at any moment, that metal could close in on her and crush her lungs, organs, bones. Four figures- one hovering- appeared, to be masked by heavy veils of water once more. She spoke into her communicator, as Jean's bright red hair appeared, before disappearing between the huge shipping containers.

"Storm's caught! She's alright, but I don't think we should risk attacking!" she yelled into it.

There was silence and, through the static, she heard a garbled reply.

"Keep- low-…easy target. We're-going- to-"

The radio system cut out, but Jean's voice sounded in her head.

'Get to the ground- you're as easy a target as Storm. Stay with Bobby. Nightcrawler and Wolverine are circling and Scott and I are going to talk.'

'Got ya,' Celeste acknowledged, swooping low, to land between the shipping containers, searching out Bobby.

For all Jean's character flaws, she knew what she was talking about. Drenched to the bone, but with delightfully hot blood rushing through her veins, she began to run, darting between the huge boxes, searching for Bobby, for the other X-Men. She saw a bulky shape and began to run towards it, before skidding on the muddy ground to a halt, slipping slightly, to land on one knee.

"Wolverine…" her call died on her lips and, for a moment, she was paralysed.

The figure turned and sniffed, long, ragged hair drenched and hanging down his shoulders. A red tongue, shockingly bold, ran over sharp, yellowed canines. No, this wasn't Wolverine…he was taller, if not as well built, but easily intimidating enough. Celeste pushed herself back to her feet and assumed a fighting stance, only to be laughed at. It was a harsh, barking laugh- derisive and animal.

"You talkin' to me, frail?" he growled, turning around to face her.

Metallic claws were born from the tips of his fingers and he brandished them with a flourish, easily slicing through the sides of the containers he stood between.

"Little girls shouldn't be out alone at night…" he said sadistically, then charged at her.

When he was within five steps of her, she pushed upwards, surprising him. She managed a mocking tap with the heel of her foot, as she flew over him, to add extra leverage to her flight. What she wasn't expecting was the speed, with which he turned and grabbed her ankle. One claw tore through the thin material of her leggings to graze her skin. Even as she twisted in midair and began to lose height, her opponent growled bestially and let her go. Celeste once more flew backwards to perch on the edge of a tall shipping container. Her opponent's feet had been encased in ice, which spread to his waist.

"Merci, Iceboy!" she called out, as Bobby emerged, hands held out before him, ice forming from the saturated air.

"No probs," he called back with a grin. "And it's Iceman!"

This grin fell, when his captive gave a violent shake and slashed through the ice with his sharp, possibly adamantium claws. The feral man began to run towards Bobby, who created a sheet of ice in front of him, which was immediately slashed down. But it gave Celeste the spare second of time that she needed. She swooped to catch onto Bobby's arm to wrench him into the sky, out of reach of the man. He grinned weakly in thanks, but avoided looking down.

"Stick t'gether?" Celeste queried, as she lowered them none to gently onto another huge container.

"Right…" he said, recovering from his fear- he spoke into his own communicator. "Celeste and I were attacked to the east of you guys- big blonde guy with sharp claws-"

"Not too clean," Celeste inserted helpfully.

"-we got away and are waiting further instructions."

The answer was immediate and, surprisingly, it was Wolverine who answered.

"You kids stick together- that guy's dangerous…I didn't know he was here. He can track you by scent, so watch your back. I'm comin' to get you."

"Tracks by scent?" Celeste said rhetorically. "Easy as!"

She employed the same technique as she had when avoiding Wolverine the time she had skipped Danger Room. She captured her and Bobby in a circle of stillness, lazily rotating air in an invisible bubble. In it, the rain fell straight down, rather than haphazardly, as outside that bubble. Water trickled down Celeste's leg, pooling around her still bleeding graze, to drip down the side of the container.

They looked anxiously ahead, as a red beam shot off into the distance, then faded.

(0o)

Jean and Cyclops stepped forward into the clearing. Storm, held tight by a band of metal, still hovered, under Magneto's control. Immediately, Jean stretched out her hand and Storm was pulled towards them. Jean's face was a picture of concentration, as Magneto resisted her telekinesis, to pull Storm away from them again.

"Stop this," Magneto ordered. "Your control has improved, Jean Grey, but over metal I still have dominion."

As if to emphasise his point, he clenched his fist slightly and the band of metal around Storm's lithe form tightened, causing her to gasp in sudden pain. Cyclops reacted immediately, hand flying to his visor to release a jet of red power at Magneto.

"No!" Jean cried, flinging her hand to the side, her telekineses throwing the beam off course and up.

The jet of raw power faded into the clouded darkness. Magneto had manoeuvred Storm, so that she was in between him and Scott. One of Magneto's men, face in darkness, laughed. Scott turned, identifying the laugher as Pyro. Jean stepped forward.

"What do you want Magneto? Why did you want us here?" she called out loudly.

"Ah, I see Charles has seen fit to make you leaders. A wise decision. But I have not come here to fight- unless I must. I have come here, bearing the olive branch. An offer for you- for all of Charles' so-called X-Men."

"You're a terrorist," Cyclops stated bluntly. "What dealings can we have with you?"

"What do you offer?" Jean added, looking concernedly at Storm.

"A chance to join my forces. There are those among your number, who are strong. But that doesn't matter. You are aware that the humans who run this government are plotting the containment of all mutants, the Mutant Registration Act. This cannot come to pass. It is their way of destroying the mutant population."

Jean nodded.

"What has that to do with us?" she queried.

Magneto could have laughed.

"You, telepath, are a mutant. A known mutant. They will nullify your powers and put you in a cell, in an internment camp. The time for Charles' negotiations has passed. It is time to recreate this world, as a world, where mutants rule as they should."

"I've heard that before," Scott declared angrily, "from Apocalypse!"

"Exactly," Magneto said smugly. "A recreation of this world, so that there won't be any humans and mutants. Just mutants, as evolution has decreed. I invite you to join my army, or share the fate of those who resist. There is no room in my new world for the likes of those, who would turn traitor to their own species. The time for humans has run out- perhaps, if they had accepted our superiority, their time on this planet may have been prolonged. It is too late for them."

"No," Storm said loudly, from where she was bound. "There is still hope!"

She raised her eyes to the sky, reflecting the roaring clouds above. There was a flash of blinding life and a deafening roar. Magneto's control of the metal band failed and she pushed herself out of it, her slim body, slippery from the rain, easily escaping. She pushed herself upwards into the sky. Magneto was on the ground, being assisted up, by one of his Acolytes. It appeared that his armour had resisted the lightning called from the skies. Storm flitted out of reach, as a cloud of flame threatened to engulf her. There was raucous laughing below.

Pyro held two raw fires, which burst into a reaching inferno, which sought to engulf Storm. She easily avoided it, but the flames separated, so that she was pursued by two separate fiery comets. She couldn't outmanoeuvre them and, even when she thought they'd collided, they simply parted again. They disintegrated, when Cyclops took out their controller, blasting Pyro in the side. He gave a comic yelp as he flew, landing on his backside some yards away. Scott strode forwards, only to be stopped as a drifting card- the Ace of Diamonds- scissored into the ground at his feet. By the time he had raised his arms, they exploded, sending him soaring backwards, scorched.

Gambit stepped out of the shadows, to hoist Pyro to his feet.

"Y' alright, mon ami?" he drawled, allowing three more cards to slip from his sleeve into his hand.

"Been betta, mate," Pyro said with a scowl. "But the One-Eyes made me get mud all over meself!"

"Could be worse," Gambit consented, diving to the side, as three beams of wood speared past them, directed by Jean Grey. "Could be struck by lightnin', out here in the open."

St John Allderdyce took that as his cue to run, disappearing among the containers, as Gambit separated. Magneto rose into the sky, surrounded by a paraphernalia of metal objects, caught in his magnetic field. Storm, arms spread, hair whipped into a frenzy, called upon blinding lightning, which struck randomly, as she was forced to dodge a missile attack of empty metal barrels.

The uncontrolled fork of lightning spiked into the shipping yard, hitting a container. The container split open, a gaping hole, blackened and smoking, as, nearby Iceman and Celeste were knocked off their own container onto the ground.

If Celeste had not had her containment barrier up, they would have most certainly been deafened. She could feel her hair crackling and, despite the fact that it was drenched, it was frizzing already. They had been thrown against another container and were momentarily stunned. Someone grabbed Celeste's wrists and wrenched her to her feet, then off them. Her hands were held above her head and she shook her head, clearing the water from her eyes. Her eyes widened and she gave a sound of fear.

"Found you, frail. Shame I gotta do this, pretty, but this'll only hurt for a second."

The brutish blonde mutant, who she and Bobby had escaped, had found them. As his claws flashed against the backdrop of lightning, she saw Bobby, pinned under one booted foot. His mouth was in a round 'o' of shock and fear and he writher helplessly. This man was going to gut her and then kill Bobby! And then, from above, she saw a shape, six blades emerging as he was silhouetted by the flashing of the clouds. Wolverine…but it was too late…She closed her eyes and transformed.

Raining…hundreds and thousands and millions of drops split the air. Nowhere was still. She couldn't sense her way and transformed back. She'd gone up and now fell, summoning the wind to catch her, as she plummeted. Bobby would be alright. Wolverine was there now. She floated in the sky, her uniform still clinging to her soaked skin. Where was she? There! Storm and Magneto, in a dance of lightning and steel! Below- Jean and Scott fending off great tongues of hungry flame, which sought to overwhelm them. She soared down, ready to blow out this fire-juggler's flames. She pirouetted in mid air, sensing something behind her and dropped to the ground, just as a metal barrel- possible directed by Magneto, or deflected by Storm- rocketed at her. She looked up and, before anything, she saw her own personal demon.

In that moment, the devil and the fallen angel recognised one another.

"Le Beau…" she hissed, muscles tightening and adrenaline rushing through her.

Red eyes flashed angrily and Remy Le Beau, Prince of Thieves, turned and ran, long brown duster flying behind him. No- he could not escape! Too long had he lived without justice. It was his fault…he had almost killed Julien, who had been family to her. He had abandoned his own cousins…Theo and Etienne. Etienne had been killed as a result of his desertion.

"Come back here, ya bastard!" she yelled outraged and soared into the air.

From her vantage point, she saw him. He was weaving a pattern among the huge containers and, had she been on foot, she'd have lost him in moments. But, now, she was a mutant too…She swooped.

Gambit ran…he was too vulnerable out in the open. He had seen her fly- the Assassin, Celeste, who may as well have been a Boudreaux- and avoid a projectile. He didn't know whether that was her only power, but he'd have to find somewhere more confined to fight this girl, whose soul was colder than the icy rain that fell.

The Assassins had killed Etienne. _She _had killed Etienne. Then she had taken out her little throwing knife and carved a few more patterns onto his skin...carved her very name into his chest, before breaking each of his fingers with practiced coldness. His chest had been crushed, his face unrecognisable. A neat shape had been cut from the skin of his lower back. It showed the craftsmanship of an assassin, for the tattoo had been removed in one piece.

Remy Le Beau only hoped that Etienne had died, by the time that Celeste's knife had blinded him.

_Flashback_

_A young Remy yawned boredly, tracing his way with catlike agility over the wall of the French Quarters. That, of course, was the Thieves' side of the wall. Impending alliance or not, it was pure folly to make such a target of himself to the Rippers._

"_Remy!" a voice called to him, tearing his gaze from the sky to his cousins below._

_The Le Beau boys. The gang of New Orleans troublemakers, lead by the infallible Remy Le Beau. Etienne, Theo and Lapin…Remy waved his acknowledgement, before, with feline grace, grabbing onto the terraced inside wall of the barricade, shimmied down the wall with ease._

"_Bon nuit, cousins," he greeted them, stretching languidly. "Heh? Etienne- Remy thought that ya'd be off with this mystery femme of yours!"_

"_Remy thought wrong," his youngest cousin parried back cheekily. "Look- de tatts all healed up…"_

_Lapin and Theo, both his elder, laughed and grabbed his arms, turning him around and lifting his shirt, to slap the marked skin on his back, causing him to wince. Remy whistled in approval._

"_So dis is ya ange'," he said, examining the ink pierced into Etienne's skin. "Nice work, Etienne, ya might be a heartbreaka' yet…"_

_A young woman, naked but with no true defined form, stretched across Etienne's lower back, reaching out with one hand. Her dark hair coiled inkily around her shoulders, brushed into movement by an invisible breeze. Her lips seemed to pout invitingly and wide angelic wings burst from her shoulders, as if she was indeed an angel. The only colour was a flash of teasing blue, as the angel's eyes opened, as if she saw her goal and reached for it._

"_Not dis femme…she's mine and I'm hers and nothing ain't ever gonna part us…" Etienne said proudly, wresting his arms back._

_Theo gave him a doubtful look, but Remy laughed at his young cousin, only seventeen years old and already inheriting the inherent handsomeness that had blessed each of them, even if Remy wasn't truly a Le Beau._

"_Mebbe, Etienne…" Lapin laughed. "Till 'nother pretty face comes 'long and ya'll be regretting that pretty pic dere."_

_Etienne laughed, but shook his head, exchanging a glance with Theo, who furrowed his brow disapprovingly._

"_Never…"_

_End Flashback_

Gambit shook his head, as he felt his eyes burn for his young cousin, who had died- no, had been destroyed. By this woman…this she-devil. It was favour to the X-Men, who really could not imagine the creature they had let into their ranks. The least he could do was see that she depart this life. A crazed grin spread on his handsome face, as he threw a charged card at the side of a warehouse…a huge metal construction. Confined. Dark. The perfect battlefield, for the red-eyed thief. His eyes immediately adjusted and he saw through the darkness in the shades of red. Perfect- more containers for shipment, high scaffolding. He instantly faded into the shadows.

Celeste's landed in the smoking entrance to the warehouse. It was dark. She could almost, not too far ahead, see the shadow of three thieves slipping into the darkness. Etienne turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Eti…?" she whispered.

Soundlessly, she flew upwards, wavering slightly, unsure. She sent a probe of her powers out, snaking threads of wind, which wrapped around everything, forming an image of the area. No thief. And, of course, being up like this made her a target for any projectiles…especially cards, which burnt and exploded, when handled by a certain mutant…a mutant, whose demonic eyes could probably spy through darkness. She dropped, pressing her back against a container, to peek around the corner.

Gambit, glowing red eyes narrowed to slits, watched his quarry. She moved just like Belle…an instrument of death, camouflaged as a teenage girl, probably Rogue's age. Probably Rogue's friend. But Etienne had been his cousin and Celeste, Etienne's killer. He slipped down the scaffolding and landed with the lightest of thumps, which was lost to the ear, as the rain continued to pound heavily on the metal warehouse. In the distance, there was the muffled sound of a thunderclap, followed by an explosion.

Celeste still sent stems of her power searching. She was momentarily distracted by the far-off noises of fighting, but this was her own fight. She focussed again, her eyes too slowly adjusting to the darkness. But she felt him coming before she saw him and she jumped backwards, just as a boe staff pierced the air where she'd stood. She continued backing away towards a more defensible position, as her target reappeared.

"Remember me, petite?" he said clearly. "Need some light?"

A flaming Jack of Hearts lit up, illuminating the face of Remy Le Beau. His lips were curved into a scowl and his eyes seemed to burn with deeper light, not merely a reflection of the glowing card.

"Y'know me and I think y' might have known m'little cousin."

Celeste's eyes flashed. How dare he speak of him in her presence, after what his actions had resulted in?

"Y' cousin Etienne?" Celeste growled. "I knew him. Better than you might think, thief."

Thief, to her, wasn't really an insult, but a title.

"Or should I say ya' murdering bastard…" she purred sadistically.

Gambit's eyes flickered angrily, wondering what this girl was playing at. Did she, perhaps, have some trick up her sleeve, that ensured her survival and perhaps his demise? She wasn't carrying any weapons, else he'd have seen them on her- her uniform left little to the imagination. But, in his head, all he could see was her fingering a blood-stained knife, wearing the same expression as she wore now. Calm and composed, even slightly amused, with darkness in her eyes. Etienne at her feet.

"Dis is for Etienne," he stated, then flicked the card forward.

It sliced through the air, the charge critical enough to explode on contact. Celeste flicked her hand forward and Remy flinched and slipped behind a huge, green container. It was a familiar movement, associated with the sharp flick of a throwing dagger…but, instead, a gust of wind came to her call and sent the card slicing backwards. The wind directed it to the container, where it exploded. Her wind kept the flames and shrapnel away from her.

"No…dat was for Etienne…" she whispered.

Sadly, she begun to fly again, floating gently upwards. She didn't want to see a body…she was sure the explosion had killed him. Flames sent flickering shadows over all the walls. Her eyes blurred with tears of finality, as she spread her wings to speed up and join her comrades. Then, from behind, a light-weight staff, fuelled by heavy anger, crashed down on her back.

'Y'fast…I'll give ya that…' Celeste thought vaguely, as she fell to the ground, stunned.

Gambit advanced on the girl, then kicked her in the side, as she tried to get up. He had studied the techniques of the assassins well. A girl, of this weight and height, was trained in speed and agility, not to deal or withstand heavy blows. If she was incapacitated by pain, she could not fight back. If she was cornered, weaponless and alone, she was a dead assassin. She gave a cry, then gasped for air, winded.

'Change…' she willed herself and closed her eyes.

Another kick to the side, sending pain throbbing through her sides, put an end to gathering enough concentration to change successfully. She curled in on herself. Gambit looked at her in disgust…was this weakling what Etienne had fallen prey to? He grabbed her arm and wrenched her up, then threw her into a leaning position against the side of the container. Her eyes were shut and she was panting, lips parted as she drew in breath. Her stomach pulsated painfully, and she was on the verge of vomiting or passing out…or both. Suddenly, she began to feel heat, which gathered from her collar and spread over her torso. Feebly, she beckoned the wind. She tried to call on it to send her captor spiralling into the heavens, to beat him against each wall until he was broken as her heart had been. It had but a cooling effect and her hair was stirred. She gave a whimper as a strong hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing tightly. She whimpered slightly, as she struggled for another breath.

Had she not come far enough from New Orleans to escape her past? Perhaps nowhere was far enough…but Etienne had escaped.

Gambit held the girl's throat, intent on memorising this moment in detail, so that he'd be able to describe it in detail to Jean-Luc, who had been crushed by Etienne's death. Her eyes were still closed and her hands twitched, her hair loose and coiling around her shoulders. Her head had been forced up by Remy's hand.

"Open ya eyes, _chienne_," he murmured mockingly, tightening his grip…he'd never killed a female, let alone one so young, before.

As darkness clouded her mind, Celeste thought she saw light. Her blue eyes opened and she looked straight ahead. Her eyes spilled over. Dark hair…finely-chiselled features…focussed on her so intently.

"Eti…?" she murmured, then looked up.

Her hand moved, as if reaching, but fell to her side, as she passed out. And, just before she passed out, the pressure released from her throat. Remy stumbled back, eyes wide, staring at his hands and back at the girl in shock…no…it couldn't be…those eyes, the hair, stirred by the breeze. The lips that had gasped for air and the last murmured word…he moved quickly, lying the girl on her back and staring at her intently. Her chest rose and fell ever so slightly and he loosened her uniform…the resemblance was uncanny. This was Etienne's mystery girl.

…_she's mine and I'm hers and nothing ain't ever gonna part us…_

Gambit felt sickened…he was so confused…he couldn't kill her now that he knew…his blood was cold in his veins. The homing beacon on his communicator flashed red and he backed away from the prone figure. She breathed. She'd live. And Remy? Remy needed some time to think. He turned and ran, but, before he stepped into the metal pod, he charged a card and threw it at the side of another container. It flared into a blaze.

The X-Men would find her.

(0o)

Celeste coughed and choked into life. She opened her eyes blearily and simply lay there. Slowly, she rolled over onto her stomach, coughing again as her throat constricted. Le Beau was Gambit…and she was alive. Hesitantly, she got to her feet and began tracing a path towards the entrance to the warehouse, where Jean, followed by Storm, came looking for her.

Their relief was palpable. Scott had been returned to the Mansion by Kurt, having received some painful burns and, perhaps, a broken rib inflicted by a heavy metal barrel. Bobby was unconscious, after being thrown head first into a container, after foolishly attempting to take the metal-clad Colossus on in hand-to-hand combat. Wolverine had been injured, but he was healing already. The Acolytes had enormously improved in skill and, supported by Magneto, it had been folly to fight them with an under-numbered team.

"Oh wow…you're neck is red…" Jean said hesitantly, putting out a hand to support Celeste as she stumbled.

"I'm fine," Celeste said, trying to manage a smile.

'But I'm not okay…' she thought to herself and turned her face away.

Jean made no comment, but wrapped an arm around her to guide her back to the X-Van.

(o0)

A/N: Wow…a _very_ depressing chapter there. A _very_ long chapter. Alright, the review: Magneto invites the X-Men to join him in his own 'final solution'; Bobby and Celeste fight Sabretooth; Celeste and Remy see and recognise one another and he draws her away to fight her alone; Celeste is nearly killed, but Remy suddenly realises who she is/was, in relation to Etienne and he lets her live. Next chapter:…hmmm…plot-moving, but let me search out my notes.


	13. Rogue's Touch

A/N: Alright then, another chapter! Thanks is due to paprika90, once more, and to my anonymous reviewer, who I love and adore anyway. Hmmm…well, nothing major has happened since last time, but the plot thickens and soon, very soon my pretties, there shall be a change of scenery. I've hinted at it for, like, the last three chapters, but it _IS_ coming. Enjoy! R&R stands for Read and Review!

(o0)

Celeste threw the cool compress hard and it hit the wall with a sharp slap, before sliding slowly to slip onto the floor. She growled in frustration and that, of course, caused her to cough, clearing her swollen air passage. Beast had said that she had been lucky and that there would be no permanent damage- just keep a cool compress applied to reduce the swelling and to be kept from exerting herself needlessly. To her, that wasn't luck at all. Last night, she'd even been forced to sleep in the Medilab, metres from the snoring Bobby and Scott, who had spent the night muttering nonsense fragments of sentences, with his arm heavily swathed in bandages.

She had been unable to sleep, especially when she found that, occasionally, Wolverine would stalk into the room to check on them, give a grunt and leave…and, first thing in the morning, she had been confined to the Mansion's interior. From her high window, she watched Rogue and Kitty, accompanied by Jean, showing the younger children hand-to-hand combat. She would have offered to help, even if she only spoke or gestured, but she hadn't…not without thinking hard…Below, Rogue held up a hand in supplication, as she delved into her pocket to fish out her mobile…maybe it was Gambit, maybe it wasn't…

She needed to speak to Rogue, but she didn't want to speak to Rogue.

Celeste sighed and headed for her bed, walking to pick up the wet cloth and fold it neatly into a square. She held it to her throat, where bruises already blossomed. Something wasn't right…Gambit was Remy Le Beau. Remy Le Beau was Gambit. That was clear to her now. What wasn't clear was the way he had looked at her, with such rage, disgust and hatred that she wanted to simply disappear. What wasn't clear was why he had blamed her for Etienne's death…

_Dis is for Etienne….open your eyes, chienne…_

No, something wasn't right at all. She dropped onto the bed, thinking hard. She wondered who else thought that she'd committed that heinous act…she wondered whether anyone, other than Theo, knew about her and Etienne. And she even wondered whether Theo was still alive. And who else knew that she still lived. She fell asleep, stalked by the accusing and observant red on black eyes.

She opened her eyes with an intake of breath, shooting up as her alarm clock rang shrilly. With bleary eyes she stared at it, uncomprehending. Six o'clock…in the morning…the last time she had looked, it had been three o'clock on the afternoon of the previous day. With a groan, she fell out of bed…she'd slept for fifteen hours non-stop. That wasn't good…but she was refreshed. She made an appearance, wearing a sleeveless, turtleneck top, which clung to her form, revealing much but hiding more. She'd shrugged on her torn black leather jacket and black jeans. She was shod in heavy boots. In fact, it rather put her in mind of the way she and Belle had often dressed in New Orleans, especially on their 'missions'…and she wasn't quite sure why, but she'd put on her body suit and her gloves and leggings were concealed in her bag. She thought she sensed the winds of change.

And when the wind called, you answered it.

She tread stealthily down the hall and down the stairs. With the looks she'd been receiving from the adults of the mansion, it was as if, if they turned away, she'd collapse. She winced, but remained composed, when Jubilee appeared, slinging her arms around Celeste's neck and shoulders to be carried for a few stumbling steps.

"Lose some weight," Celeste protested, swaying to the side.

"Make me," she shot back, tightening her grip. "Wassup, Doc?"

The exit of the mansion was blocked by a huge blue form. Dr McCoy crossed his arms in disapproval, barring Celeste's way. His face, however, was a mixture of worry and amusement.

"I hope you are simply here to see young Jubilation off the school, Celeste. You are in no condition to be making any appearances; especially with the way you seem to attract trouble."

"Mr McCoy, I slept for fifteen hours. I've got a heavy fifteen-year-old pulling on my throat, and I ain't likely to be dropping dead anytime soon…can I go to school now, sir?"

There was a brief competition of wills, Beast's powered by his obligation to the wellbeing of his students and Celeste's powered by her sheer will not to be beaten. It was alarming that she had said that Gambit had done this to her, especially seeing as Rogue was so very fond of him…the teachers had conferenced on the matter and decided to monitor the situation. If Rogue was forbidden access to the Acolyte, she was as liable to up and leave, as simply mope around the mansion. And, if Celeste was forbidden to leave the Mansion, she was likely to do the same. He stepped aside.

"You are not to get in any fights, or I shall have you locked up and sedated. No, in fact, not any kind of trouble at all. Understand?"

"Oui, _mastero_!" chirped Celeste.

Jubilee shrugged and laughed and followed Celeste. Despite this show of her usual good nature, Celeste's face had fallen as she turned away. She wanted to be a million miles away from Bayville right now. Pietro would probably be at school and Celeste no longer knew where they stood together…she had let him believe she had given in to his attentions, only to withdraw once more. It was difficult. And something was wrong in New Orleans, she could feel it. The reappearance of Gambit had affirmed this feeling.

"Celeste!"

Celeste turned and made a hand motion, signalling Jubilee to continue on to Scott's red convertible. Rogue jogged slightly to catch up with her.

"Ya wanna walk a bit?" she asked tentatively. "Ah wanted to talk to ya."

Celeste nodded, unsure of whether this was for Rogue's benefit or hers. She fell into tread beside Rogue as they trekked down the long driveway. They were silent for nearly ten minutes and reached the road. The silence was breached only after Scott's red convertible and Sam Guthrie's crowded van had passed.

"Ah heard about Saturday naght…" Rogue began. "Did Pietro end up fahnding you?"

"Oui, he did. I think I sent him away."

"Oh."

There was silence.

"Why'd ya wanna talk to me, Rogue. I know ya've got somethin' on your mind and you know I probably do too."

Rogue gave her an appreciative glance. This was permission for them each to be straight-forward, to tell the truth and not be sidetracked by euphemisms and useless chat.

"Ah've been told to stay away from you," Rogue said bluntly. "And Ah've been told whah…maybe not exactly whah, but enough to know that the person who told me was sure about it."

"Gambit."

"Yeah, Gambit…Ah think you saw him when Magneto was about."

"He gave me a present," Celeste said shortly, before pulling down the collar of her turtleneck top. "I think he's got somethin' 'gainst me."

Rogue hissed in sympathy, looking at the bruises, which had blossomed around her throat. Shades of ugly purple, blue, yellow and deep green. But, if Gambit's was correct, in what he thought of Celeste, she deserved it and worse. Celeste was an adapt actress and had supposedly, on many occasions, played the snake among the flowers. The righteous indignation could be just an act. Rogue looked resolutely ahead, preparing herself for what she might learn. She took the leap.

"You were a Ripper, weren't ya?" she said, voice unsteady.

"Only de Thieves called us that…yo' _beau_ used to be one."

That was as much of an admission as Rogue was willing to coax from her. She knew that Gambit hated the Assassins with a passion and perhaps with good reason- especially since his ex-fiancée had been one. However, she didn't want to imagine Celeste as a cutthroat, like those she'd encountered on her and Remy's little 'holiday' early last year;

"Then you were an assassin, weren't ya Celeste? You killed people."

Celeste halted in her steps, causing Rogue to catch herself, before colliding with her. That tone had been accusing and almost horrified. Celeste grabbed Rogue's covered arm and whisked her off the street into a dark alley. They had neared the business centre of Bayville.

"This ain't share time, Rogue," she hissed angrily. "I don't know what dat bastard said to ya, but you already know dis stuff. What did he tell ya to turn ya so against me?"

"He told me about a guy…"

Celeste's heart froze and her lips tightened.

'No,' she silently begged. 'Let him stay dead…don't say it, Rogue, don't say his name. Don't dig up his grave.'

"…whose name was Etienne. He was Remy's cousin."

A barely perceptible shiver ran down Celeste's spine. She was silent, suddenly on the verge of wilting, of running. She closed her eyes…she had heard his name spoken in a space of two days, twice.

"What about him?" she said sadly. "I know he's dead."

Rogue swallowed hard. Gambit had, on the same night of the battle, come to her partially opened window. Rogue had answered his whispered calls and he had told her a story. He had given her a warning. He'd be hanging around for a few days in Bayville, then he'd be making a move and it was better if Rogue knew the truth of the matter and, perhaps, the X-Men would find the wisdom not to involve themselves. But this expression on Celeste's face made her feel that the story was one, based on lies.

"He ain't- he ain't just dead, Celeste," Rogue stuttered.

"He is," Celeste stated firmly, "and we should just leave him like that."

Rogue burst into speech. It was rushed and desperate, as if she wished to share it so soon that she would no longer have to bear that burden.

"Remy got a letter from his family. His cousin was killed by Rippers and his body- oh God, Celeste, his body was all cut up and broken and they think that ya did it, when he was still alive. He had your name carved into his body and even a tattoo had been sliced out. They'd have been afta' ya but they all think that ya dead! Remy thinks that- that you did it, Celeste. Celeste!"

(0o)

Professor Xavier took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the silence that filled the Mansion. With the presence of so many young adults, his thoughts tended to become crowded and, every so often, he'd pick up some thought that he wished that he hadn't. In the top storey of the Mansion, Storm was peacefully watering her plants. Logan was in the garage, working on some new project and Beast was in his Medilab. It gave him more time to contemplate all the horrors that Magneto could have planned. It was impossible to know, without an inside source of information, but Magneto commanded a great deal of loyalty.

Savouring the taste of the freshly-ground and brewed coffee, he wheeled himself to his desk and opened his laptop. However, as the screen lit up, it became apparent that something wasn't right. No, it became apparent that something was very wrong.

Someone else was controlling his computer from an external source.

Photos were flashing up on the screen. Photos of Celeste. Celeste as a young child. Celeste as a budding teen and a lethal looking Celeste, holding a long dagger standing by the side of a tall, blonde beauty. Information, files, began to open and his screen was flooded with information, which he read, wide-eyed, his alarm growing.

Then the screen was normal. His usual desktop items were present. He closed his eyes, as if meditating on what action to take. He flinched at the bright chirp of his computer.

"You've got mail!"

(0o)

A violent shaking had overcome Celeste and the alley swayed. No…no…no…impossible. Not Etienne, not her Etienne, who had first caught her eye with his grin and twinkling eyes and then her heart with his words and hands. No, not Etienne. The tattoo…the one she had pleaded for him not to risk, of her as he saw her, his angel- his _angé_. Then her stomach reacted and she turned away and stumbled a few steps away from Rogue, before her meagre breakfast made itself up and, even after that, she retched dryly. She was vaguely aware of Rogue coming over and beginning to speak to her…rubbish words of comfort. She pressed her clenched fists into her eye sockets, as if willing the images from her head. Who would do such a thing? Who hated her- who hated him- so much as to do this? Benoit may have…but she had seen to his demise.

Belle. Belle had hated her so much, that she had volunteered to kill her. Belle had seen her kill Benoit and seen Celeste and Etienne, together. She always had been good with a knife.

"Please, Rogue…" she mumbled. "Please just leave me alone for a while…"

Rogue's hand descended to touch her arm comfortingly, but, before it made contact, Celeste had grabbed her wrist tight in her hand, and shoved her away.

"Ça ne te regarde pas! Casse-toi," Celeste snarled, turning her back to Rogue- Rogue, who had believed her capable of committing such an act.

Of all the students of the Institute, Rogue had been the first for her to respond to. Rogue was untouchable and Celeste had wanted that, in the wake of her lover's death…they had each come from the South and Celeste could speak to Rogue and neither would bring up the past of the other. Celeste had allowed Rogue into her trust and had hoped that Rogue had let her into hers.

But, not so. Someone had claimed her trust already. Rogue backed away, not exactly sure of what she had said, but reading the raw hurt and anger in her voice. Then, Professor Xavier was speaking in her head.

'Rogue- are you with Celeste?' he asked urgently. 'What is happening? She is not responding to me.'

Even Rogue's mind was stunned, but the Professor could see what was happening and sense Rogue's own distress.

'Rogue, you mustn't go near her. I have received information from an anonymous source that has labelled her as dangerous and unstable. Storm, Logan and Beast are going to pick you up- both of you.'

'Professor- was it from…was it from Gambit?'

'No, Rogue. But an organisation has been made aware of her appearance here and her presence may endanger all of us. We are coming and be wary- of Celeste and of your surrounds.'

Then his presence withdrew from Rogue's mind. Rogue was shaken. Something big was happening. She turned to Celeste, who was slightly hunched and leaning forwards against the wall. She was still shaking. It seemed there was no other choice.

"Ah'm sorry, Celeste…" she said slowly. "But Ah have to know the truth."

Celeste stiffened, but was too slow to respond. Rogue's hand grabbed the back of her neck and, suddenly, images were flashing through her mind. Celeste felt a tug at her spirit and, as she spiralled into darkness, she decided that she had to go back to where it all began.

(0o)

Storm stroked the hair from Celeste's face as Rogue, eyes closed, recounted Celeste's story, supplementing it with bits of information that she had gleaned from Remy. Moments after the Professor had received the anonymous information from what may or may not have been a crime syndicate from New Orleans, Storm had contacted him. She had sensed Celeste's pain and had taken immediate action.

Normally, after Rogue's touch, the victim would have regained consciousness. However, at Beast's suggestion, Celeste had been sedated, as she had thrashed about in some nightmarish stupor. Rogue was pale and Logan kept a sharp eye on her. If Rogue knew anything- and Logan had a great deal of respect for her- then this girl had fallen into trouble and, when trying to escape it, was only drawn into it again. Storm, however, knew that Rogue was concealing parts of her story.

"Rogue," she said gently. "It is alright to tell us the whole story. You are probably trying to protect her, child, but everyone must know."

Rogue cast her eyes down. She felt guilty enough, revealing the intricacies of the Assassins and Thieves' Guild, without having to sketch a timeline of Celeste's life for them.

"The kid's in trouble- just spit it out so we know how to fix it," Logan suggested tactfully.

"She was a member of de Assassin's Guild- de Rippers that I told ya about when Gambit and I were down South- but she ain't never killed anyone for money. I ain't gonna lie to ya- she's done some things that'd land her in prison, but she's a good person…she did kill one guy. That guy killed Remy's cousin, Etienne, but she would never- I mean never- do that to a person…do what Gambit thinks she did."

Celeste mumbled in her drugged sleep, an unintelligible word followed by what may have been a hint of a sob. Storm soothed her, stroking her hair softly.

"Hush, child, we are almost home…"

(0o)

A/N: This chapter: Rogue talks to Celeste and it becomes clear that Gambit has been mislead, into thinking that Celeste was Etienne's killer and later mutilated him; _someone_ _else_ becomes aware of Celeste's presence with the X-Men and Xavier receives information to the same effect as that which Gambit has shared and, believing Celeste to be a danger, dispenses the adults to pick her up; Celeste reacts badly to Rogue's revelation and Rogue desires to know the truth- she uses her powers to knock out Celeste and learns the truth. In the meantime, Celeste thrashes about as she is returned to the Mansion in an unconscious state…the next chapter: Celeste's decision and how she starts her journey…


	14. Adieu

A/N: Alright, here's another chappy. Rogue has told the adults the truth about Celeste's past and, from information made up of absorbed memories and news from Gambit, the story of Celeste and Etienne is now known. Gambit, however, does not know the truth. Well, not much I can say here, aso skip ahead to the review, if you skip parts of my long-ass chapter.

(o0)

Celeste's eyelashes fluttered and she opened them to an all too familiar sight. It was unwelcome, but soothing- a sign that, perhaps, things were alright. She was strangely calm. The harsh white light, glaringly bright above her, and the crisp sheets of the Medilab. She sighed…how many times must she awake, disorientated and feeling slightly drugged, before she simply went into a crazed rampage and caused a tornado in the blue doctor's lab. Perhaps it was one of the after effects of whatever Mr McCoy had given her, but her limbs felt strangely heavy, as if weighed down. It was as if Celeste was tied down.

She lifted her head carefully. Thick straps held her hands to the side and her torso against the bed. Likewise, her legs, at the knees and ankles, were also secured. Hesitantly, she raised her knee, but the band only gave way a little. She felt her heart beginning to speed up, but schooled it to its normal pace. If she let herself become worked up, those horrible thoughts of Etienne's fate would come rushing back, sending her spiralling into darkness. She surveyed the room again, eyes widening and focussing. Her heart beat faster still and she began to breathe rapidly. No, she had to stay calm and conscious, because she had a purpose now.

She was going back to where it had started and she was gone end things. She would go back to the bridge and there, where she and Belle had spoken, it would end. And Celeste didn't care whether she died, as long as Belle- her sister in arms- came with her.

And, anyway, it appeared that she had outstayed her welcome. Had the X-Men always known about her? Her clothing and weaponry, spread on the clean countertop, seemed to suggest this. They had opened their arms to her, despite their suspicions, and trusted her. Now the X-Men knew her secrets- or as many of them as Rogue chose to share. So they had drugged her, they had strapped her down…a criminal in their eyes. Celeste felt her eyes burn, the pain of moving on. The message was clear.

She concentrated and aerated, reappearing slightly off from her targeted location and almost falling. It had to have been a sedative that they had given to her- straight into her veins. She clung to the bench and looked, fearful and fond, at her tools of trade. She traced the still sharp blade of one throwing knife, before grasping its hilt. It settled into her hand and she turned suddenly, whirling around to whip the knife through the air, and the blade disappeared to the hilt, sinking into the soft pillow of the bed. She still knew what to do. She wrapped her hand around her gun and twirled it expertly, before placing it down. She didn't know how much time she had left and began to hurriedly pull on the clothing laid out on the counter. The find of her bracelet, which spelt her name out, caused her to smile and then frown- Etienne had given it to her. She then began to arm herself.

She paused, touching the silver Assassins' Guild insignia on her ornate pistol. Celeste took it to the bed and, withdrawing her knife from the pillow, used it to pry off the symbol. As an afterthought, she placed the broken symbol on the pillow, almost like a calling card. She smoothed the bed over and looked around the room. There was no sign that she had ever been there; just the motif on the bed, a final admission of her sins, of her profession.

Still grasping the throwing knife, she stalked over to a closed panel in the wall and unfastened the catch, to let the array of switches and complicated wiring show. The Mansion's switchboard was where it was judged to be most secure. Celeste studied it for a moment, and then switched off the electricity to the grounds of the mansion, and the underground and ground floor levels. Immediately, the place fell into darkness.

She used her powers to sense her path and began to run, nigh on soundless.

(0o)

Logan's eyes flicked open, at exactly the same moment as the lower levels of the mansion were shrouded in darkness. It wasn't a change in scent, nor a sound, but rather a feel that something was wrong. And when he went to flip his lights on, he realised something was, indeed, wrong. Bracing himself against the door, he schooled himself to silence, listening intently. Faint enough to be a heartbeat, he heard footsteps- someone light was running down the hall, wishing to not be heard, let alone seen. He sniffed…no scent. The identity was obvious.

He pushed open his door and stepped out into the hallway and Celeste nearly crushed herself against his chest. Her hands immediately used him to propel herself backwards and she fell into a fighting stance, partially crouched, already knowing she stood no chance against the older, much more experience Wolverine, but unwilling to sacrifice her clothing and weaponry for her escape. Her right hand swayed slightly, knife in grasp, ready to fight.

Wolverine looked at her, perplexed. Celeste reeked of fear and adrenalin, confusion and sedative. In the semi-darkness, her eyes were wide and she was breathing heavily.

"Easy there, Windy," he said, spreading his hands wide, in the universal gesture of peace. "I ain't gonna hurt ya."

Celeste hand was steady, but she was shaking slightly. She felt so tired and weak and that was just not on.

"I _really_ don't wanna fight you, Logan," she said slowly, words slightly slurred. "But I need t'get past you and I'll have t'ask ya to get out of the way."

He advanced a step forward.

"Ya goin' somewhere, kid?" he said, taking the barest of steps towards her and regretting it, as she flinched slightly. "'Cause there's no way you're getting past me, in that state you're in. Look at ya- ya can hardly stand, let alone fight, kid. Ya still have Hank's drugs in you and have been out of it for days…maybe it's just the drugs talkin', but I still can't let you pass, darlin'."

During that time, he'd been ever so slowly approaching her, cautious, lest she shy away. Her eyes widened slightly and Logan noticed that her pupils were dilated and the faint scent of perspiration on her. Celeste wasn't well and the fear stench grew stronger.

"Listen, kid, the Doc had to put you out for a few days to calm down…we know that ya ain't exactly a saint, but we're working things out. How 'bout you put the knife down and I take you to the Professor?"

"Like ya' haven't already talked to him…" she said, her words pouring out. "Is he comin' already to play his mind games, heh?"

"No, Windy, just you and me here- you look like you're goin' off somewhere- where to?"

Celeste lowered the knife slightly, more out of weakness than a show of trust.

"Back," she said shortly.

"Back where?" Logan pushed, shuffling forward again, pushing his advantage.

"Ya know where, already," Celeste almost growled, but allowed her hand to fall to her side, her knuckles white as she gripped the blade. "Back to where it started- and this time there's gonna be an finish. No more loose ends."

At that, her eyes revealed a little of her inner anguish and she looked aside, as if concealing it. Wolverine lunged, knocking the knife from her hand and holding her arms, as if she'd strike out. Instead, to his shock, Celeste's head fell against his chest and a strangled sob escaped her and he smelt the salty tang of tears. His arms lowered and he held her gingerly.

"Okay, kid…" he said uncomfortably. "I know ya think ya have to go back…"

"No! I- I have to go back- and make things- right again," Celeste choked out, between shuddering breaths.

She pushed herself off him, sniffling slightly, before wiping her eyes on her leather sleeves. She swallowed, before looking at Logan through puffy, desperate eyes- eyes which revealed her shame. Logan turned abruptly and began to walk back into his room, but paused in the doorway.

"Just leave a note on the fridge," he said gruffly. "Chuck worries about you kids…"

He shut the door behind him and heard retreating footsteps.

'Are you sure that was wise?'

'Thought I had a passenger,' Logan grumbled in reply. 'The kid knows what she's doing…'

Logan rolled over in his covers. The moment he had felt something wrong, he had sent out a soundless warning to the Professor, by his own orders. Professor Xavier's success rate in 'dealing' with Celeste's problem had come to no effect. Realising Logan's train of thought, Xavier withdrew with a parting thought.

'She _thinks_ she knows what she's doing…'

Logan grunted and threw a thin blanket on him, seeking the darkness again.

(0o)

In the darkness, Celeste studied Rogue. She didn't look like she was weighed down or distressed by the secrets that had been revealed that day. No, she looked peaceful and angelic, the moonlight touching her already pale face and turning it into porcelain. In her sleep, she dreamt, her eyelashes flickering slightly. Rogue- she knew Celeste better than anyone now- better, even, than Etienne had. Celeste kneeled by her bedside, listening to her breathe deeply and Kitty making slight, sleepy sounds. That moment was so peaceful…Celeste could have simply gone back downstairs and, without showing and semblance of her midnight wandering, let it all blow over…Logan wouldn't share her secrets…but then again, she'd thought the same of Rogue…

"I'll see ya 'round, Roguey," Celeste murmured and brushed the hair out of her face, deliberately trailing her fingers against the soft skin of her cheek.

A small whimper escaped her and she snatched her hand away, immediately dizzy and swaying. The world was slightly darker and intimidating…her awareness of her surrounds dulled. Had she really come to rely this much on her powers? Dizzily, she pulled the covers over Rogue and, crossing over to Kitty- naïve Kitty- and looked at her fondly. Her stomach clenched and she was sure she was going to puke and rushed to the door, silently unlatched to lean out the window. The fall wasn't too high and she dropped out the window. Her landing wasn't perfect, but she landed unharmed on the grass. She was lucky she'd thought ahead and turned off the security system, else she'd have no chance to fend off all the hidden artillery and weaponry.

She began to walk, pulling her coat tight around her. At the gate, she pinned in what she knew to be Logan's code. No-one, who happened to read tonight's records, would question Logan leaving the mansion's premises at three o'clock in the morning. She looked unsurely down each side of the road…she'd escaped the Mansion, but how would she leave Bayville? She felt a hand wrap around her arm and neck, pinning her neatly. She caught a familiar scent, an unwelcome one.

"Ya leavin' so soon, petit?" Gambit whispered into her hair. "Dat's a right shame if you were plannin' another runner…'cause you ain't gonna get away this time, 'ssassin."

Celeste struggled feebly, elbowing Gambit in the stomach and pressing into his foot with the steel heel of her boot. Maybe, if she didn't still have the traces of sedative coursing through her body, if she had eaten for the past two days and hadn't given Rogue a tap, she might have stood a chance. And, to her surprise, she was released. She felt something hard make contact with her head and, then, nothing.

(0o)

Celeste's eyes flipped open, as her mouth was opened and water was poured in. Reflexively, she swallowed, but when the water continued to pour it, she spat it out, coughing. Her eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Her hands were tied behind her back and her ankles too. They were strong knots. And, despite the fact that he wore sunglasses in the bright light, Remy Le Beau's features were obvious.

"_Casse-toi_," she hissed angrily.

"No _merci_?" Gambit said, with a laugh. "Gambit be wounded."

"Gambit' be a lot more than wounded when Celeste gets her hands on him," she snarled in response. "Untie me, now, Le Beau."

"Non…Remy don't think he can do that. One- ya just gonna try and slit his throat the moment he turns 'round; two, it's great to see a crazy bitch like you in ropes and three, we got a schedule to keep."

Celeste looked at him dumbfounded. He offered her the mouth of an open bottle of water and she looked at it mistrustingly. He took a sip, as if to assure her, then offered it again. He again pressed it to her lips and she accepted it. No use in being stubborn, if you wanted to have any chance to escape. With the patience of a sparrow feeding its young, Remy gave her the bottle of water, while Celeste's hands remained bound. It seemed to help and Celeste took note of her surrounds.

A gas station, with its ridiculously overpriced fuel. A high sun, and she was placed in the back of a Jeep, which she immediately recognised as belonging to Lance.

"Thief…" she said critically.

"Dat Remy is," he replied earnestly. "Hungry?"

Celeste nodded curtly and he procured a sandwich, which he fed to her. Celeste didn't make eye contact and turned her face away after she'd eaten half of the sandwich.

"Where do ya think you're taking me, Le Beau?"

"Back," he said simply. "And Remy's doesn't think, Remy _knows_ that he's taking ya back."

"Why, ya cocky bastard?"

"No need to be rude, petite. I didn't kill ya, so I guess ya gotta stand trial. Things are different now…you were Etienne's femme, weren't ya?"

A succession of emotions flickered over Celeste's face. Remy's skills in empathy were limited, but he could read her accurately. Her eyes alone were open books. Anger, shame, hatred, disbelief and a strong emotion that could only be identified as something akin to betrayal of trust…so intent was he on reading these emotions that he didn't even flinch, when she spat in his face, then lunged forward to try and attack him. She head butted Remy's cheek bone with a resounding crack and moved to do it again, teeth bared- a qualm she had lost, when training with Logan, who had once bitten her when she gotten him pinned down, then cracked up at her expression.

There was only so much that a individual, no matter what training she had been given, could do when bound against a free opponent. Remy merely hopped out of the car and Celeste fell forward and into the space between the front seats and the back. She growled audibly and was about to transform, then realised something. It would be better not to reveal her powers so lightly and she was headed to New Orleans either way. That didn't prevent her from looking up from her humiliating position to glare daggers at Remy, who was impassively wiping his face on a serviette. He looked up, red eyes angry, before grabbing her by the back of the neck and depositing back on the back seat. Those eyes suddenly glowed with feeling, mirroring those emotions of Celeste, as he backhanded her. Ears ringing, she fell backwards.

Remy stared at his captive Assassin in disgust, and some confusion. He didn't understand the situation and he wasn't sure that he shouldn't have finished her off the other night, Etienne's girl or no. Reaching into one of his deep pockets, he pulled out a roll of duct tape. Pulling off a generous strip, he pressed it over Celeste's lips, securing it. He proceeded to sticky tape her bound limbs to the chair, then binding her feet and wrists to either passenger seat. And just so this didn't happen to arouse the attention of passing motorists, he threw his heavy duster over her.

"Learn some manners, petite," he suggested helpfully, before hopping into the driver's seat once more.

As he reached among the wiring of Lance's Jeep, his mobile rang, buzzing in his pocket. He looked at it, as it rang out, before turning it off. This was no business of Rogue's.

(0o)

Rogue paced the patch of carpet outside the Professor's office, chewing her bottom lip nervously. It was the development of that habit, which now stopped her from wearing the heavy makeup she'd once worn- purple teeth was not an appealing look. Kitty and Kurt had already left and she'd seen no sign of Celeste…but she knew where she was.

_Tell'm I'm going back, Roguey, and not t'worry…_

Rogue rubbed her head irritated. Now she had Celeste's voice in her head for company, but at least it was allied with her. She vaguely registered that the absorbed personas of Celeste and Gambit were now getting along. They had more in common than they cared to know and were capable of friendship, if only the matter had been solved quickly and decisively. She had tried to contact Remy, as soon as she wakened, but he hadn't answered. Rogue was worried.

The office door opened and Rogue walked in.

"Yes, Rogue?" the Professor asked mildly, his expression making him seem old and exhausted.

"Celeste is gone, she left last nahght," Rogue began.

"I know," the Professor said sadly. "She wouldn't let herself be stopped."

Rogue looked taken aback at that news.

"She left a- a message in mah head. She must'f come into mah room last nahght and touched me in mah sleep. Can ya read mah mind?"

Without waiting for an answer, Rogue was moving towards him, to kneel in front of him, eyes already closed. Xavier bowed his head to Rogues, before gingerly placing his hands on either side of her head, centimetres from her skin. He braced himself, but Rogue's barriers didn't resist him.

_((Rogue's head))_

_The Professor was thrown into the constant deluge that was Rogue's mind; memories and personas sought to grab him, but he sought something else, something important. Suspended, as if in empty space, Rogue materialised next to him._

'_The voices haven't been so bad lately,' she said. _

'_Show me Celeste,' the Professor replied._

_From the floodwaters of Rogue's mind, tendrils snaked up, like smoke, to form Celeste's figure. It was Celeste's absorbed persona, a shadow of her. She smiled slyly, then dissolved again, and suddenly, images of Celeste's life were playing around them._

'_A strange upbringing…' he murmured, as a knife flew through him and Rogue to reach a target in the form of a man and an older boy jubilantly congratulated her; a dirty-faced girl climbing into the back of a train, too young to be alone, but devastatingly by herself.._

_A younger Celeste, toes making ripples in the river, withdrawing them as a dark-haired boy, arm slung around her, casually warned her of alligators. Two youths, facing different ways on a bridge, smiling and talking to one another, never turning. The two rolling on the grass, then the scene faded,_

'_Etienne…' Rogue explained, then another scene appeared._

_Etienne, eyes becoming dull, blood seeping onto Celeste's gloved hands._

"_Belle," he wheezed and then Celeste was running, running away…running from Benoit's body and from everything she'd been taught to believe in._

_Celeste was lying in the Medilab, finding herself secured to the bed. She was struggling, then transforming. Changing back into her Assassins' gear. Betrayal- but had she betrayed them or they her? Rogue looked at the Professor, astounded._

'_Tied down, Professor?'_

'_She was struggling in her unconscious state…she could have dealt harm to herself or others.'_

_The images flickered away and, once more, Celeste's persona appeared._

"_Professor," it said, "I'm going back t'where you found me and I'll finish what I must. Merci for your trust and I'm so sorry t' have betrayed it…"_

'_You didn't- we knew…' the Professor tried to say, but Rogue silenced him._

'_This is a thought…the message she left for you in mah head.'_

"…_I ask that y'don't come after me, or seek me out. I've brought enough trouble already. I will make sure your name is cleared. They won't come for you. I know I may not survive, or leave whole, but I accept that. I will fix everything. Adieu Professor…merci Rogue…"_

_A last memory flickered, as they withdrew. Celeste's bare hand touching Rogue's cheek and then they were gone…Celeste was gone._

_((Out of Rogue's head))_

"I see…" the Professor said tiredly, folding his hands as Rogue stood up. "We have lost her then…if we ever had her at all."

"Of course we had her, Professor…" Rogue said assuring him. "And she will come back…Ah know it."

(0o)

Remy had stared stalwartly ahead during the day and, when darkness fell, pulled up into a crummy, highway motel- identical to a hundred other crummy, highway motels he'd stayed at, during his years. Behind him, Celeste hadn't moved from sundown to sunset, though he doubted what mobility she did have, with the firm bonds he'd put on her. She hadn't even made a noise.

Parking Lance's Jeep, he whipped off the trench coat he'd put over her. He narrowed red on black eyes angrily, mouth twisting into a scowl. Celeste grinned back, reclining comfortably.

"Let's talk, Gambit."

Celeste lay on a pile of ropes and spent duct tape, in the same body suit she had worn on the night they fought. Seeing his surprise, she began to pull her clothes from the tangle of ropes and pull them over the top.

"How?" he asked, slightly crestfallen.

"Y'can't hold me, Le Beau," Celeste said frankly. "So I think we're gonna have t'make a deal. I don't know who told ya 'bout me'n Etienne, but I didn't touch him- I never saw him again, after de night at de museum."

"Gambit's listenin'."

"Benoit killed him- knife to de heart," Celeste said gingerly, placing two fingers over her chest, where her heart beat steadily, though not without considerable effort. "I killed Benoit. Theo left and told me to leave too…we left de bodies dere, but- if it helps't all- if it makes it less worse, well…- Etienne was definitely…gone. I think it was Bella…Bella who did dat stuff…"

Remy swore explosively, guilt coursing through his veins. He'd left his cousins there and Etienne had been killed…and Theo…

"Mon Dieu…Theo knew 'bout you and Etienne's little game!" he exclaimed, then calmed down. "What's de deal?"

Celeste smiled, then hopped out of the car.

"Y'take me to New Orleans and y'help me fix things…I tell ya de whole story and come without a fuss."

"Ya get free ride and I get some story…how do I benefit, petite?" Remy asked warily.

"I let ya get in on avengin' Etienne."

(0o)

A/N: Chapter Review: Celeste awakens, bound in the Medilab, believing the X-Men think she did kill Etienne- she finds her gear laid out; she escapes the mansion, having a run-in with Logan and leaving a message in Rogue's head; outside the Mansion's gates, she is captured by Gambit; Xavier gets the message and Celeste and Remy strike up a deal.


	15. Travels

A/N: Alrighty, nothing much to say, but here eet is!

(0o)

Celeste spread her trench coat out on the ground, well aware that, on the other side of the filthy bed, Gambit was doing the same thing. Although he had oh-so-chivalrously offered her the double bed, which was crawling with lice and played host to some suspicious stains, she had politely declined…she had, however, been forced to use the equally-putrid bathroom.

'Cheap thief,' she thought angrily to herself. 'Could'f at least asked for a clean room…'

Celeste had told him the complete story…well, not her autobiography, but the chapters that involved her involvement with Etienne. The day she had met Etienne, sitting on the wall of the French Quarter. She even told him how she used to sneak into the Thieves' Guild to visit him and how Theo had discovered their relationship, after she lifted his blankets before realising that she'd crept stealthily into the wrong room…she told him, in depth, all that had happened between his disappearance from the museum and the manifestation of her powers. He had merely listened, reading her emotions as she told of one event or another, but not volunteering any opinions or additional information. And, after her admirable performance, he felt that he had no choice but to believe her…he knew well how Assassins could draw anyone to them, through a combination of honeyed words and subtle threats, but they could not fake their emotions.

And everything that Celeste felt, she felt to the bottom of her heart.

She lay down gingerly, keeping well away from the stained walls. She curled her legs towards her body, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dark. There was no way she'd fall asleep in the presence of this thief…around the corner of the bed, she could just see his feet, relaxed. Her blue eyes were wide open and she began to breathe deeply and quietly. She would outlast him- there was no way he'd be so careless as to fall asleep. She had stayed motionless and silent for much longer than a single night. She focussed her gaze on his right foot, ready to act at any sign of life.

Gambit's red on black eyes were focussed on the ceiling. He wished that the Assassin had opted for the bed…if she had so much as twitched, a cacophony of squeaking would have jolted him to awareness. Instead, less than three metres from him, the Assassin lay. Although he didn't doubt her story, he still didn't trust her- he was certain she'd have a blade on her somewhere and he was almost certain that he'd seen the silver hilt of a pistol protruding from her belt. He regretted not disarHe lay there, silent as the grave, listening to her steady breathing. He kept his body still and breathing even. He wasn't a patient man.

Three hours later and Celeste was grinning her head off, from where she lay on the floor. Gambit's foot was had progressed from twitching occasionally to tapping incessantly and, every now and then, a sound of annoyance and boredom would escape him. She hadn't moved a centimetre, but for the occasional curling of the toes and unclenching of the fist. He'd give up soon- Etienne said that the Thieves were trained in defeating- well, avoiding and escaping- whatever the law through at them. Their use of ranged weapons was often poorer than that of the Assassins and they'd certainly not undergone the training she'd had to. She had, on occasion, lay still on a metal beam overlooking her target, for eighteen hours. Sure enough, within minutes of that thought, there was a disgruntled noise and Gambit was sitting up. So…his eyes did glow red in the darkness- it wasn't just a manifestation of Celeste anger and fear of him.

"Can't sleep, Le Beau?" Celeste said quietly, surprising him.

Remy looked at the girl, who was curled up in a relaxed position, but showed no signs of having been asleep yet. Her eyes, pale in Remy's dark world of infrared, were wary.

"Non..." he sighed, reaching into a pocket and withdrawing a cigarette.

There was no flicker of lighter, but a slightly popping noise, before the sweet, smoky smell began to drift around the room. Celeste sat up and stretched, before crawling over to where Remy sat, hands spread peacefully. She nodded towards his cigarette and he obliged her, lighting a second one with the tips of his fingers. She moved to accept and he shook his head, giving her the one he'd already started on and taking the new one for himself.

"Cheap thief…" she repeated, but took a pull on the cigarette anyway.

Her lung reacted in disgust and she cleared her throat, poorly disguising a cough. Remy snickered, but Celeste's mind became blissfully clear and her body relaxed.

"Y'loved Etienne, didn't you?" she queried carefully.

"Oui…I loved de bioque," Remy said, blowing a casual smoke ring, which dispersed.

"Why'd ya leave him…why'd you leave him and Theo dat night in the museum…?"

Gambit weighed his options.

"How 'bout I say I just wanted to steal de jewel den runoff with de profits, and didn't care what happened to dem, heh? A moment of weakness…"

"I'd call you a liar, and de worst kind of thief," Celeste replied. "Etienne and Theo thought ya were better than that, even when ya went and disappeared from de Guild for a year…"

"Oui, dat would make me a liar…Remy took de jewel and left it at de Guild, but something happened and de jewel never made it to mon pere…truth be told, Remy was 'scaping from dat Bella Donna again."

They fell silent again and Celeste tapped the ashes from her cigarette onto the carpet. Remy was lighting another cigarette with his first.

"I saw you and Roguey in New Orleans last year…" Celeste said tentatively. "Y'were fightin' some of our Rippers- de thugs- out on the street…"

"Petit monde…" Remy agreed amiably. "You involved with dat stuff?"

"Non…I thought that after you and Bella signed the marriage contract things were gonna be goin' fine again. Jean-Luc doesn't even remember why he had your pere kidnapped."

"Thought it was just to get de Guild Wars going again…but it didn't."

Celeste crushed her cigarette into the grimy carpet, grimacing.

"You haven't been back to New Orleans since you left, right Remy?"

Remy looked at her strangely, before nodding slowly in consent. It was relief to Celeste. She smiled and stood up, walking to the rickety table that was supported by the motel wall. She made a show of disarming herself, laying her gun, throwing knives and hunting dagger on the table. With a bashful smile, she also withdrew a sharp, needle-like object from her hair, causing her hair to tumble down. She drifted back to her lain out jacket.

"Fais-do-do, Remy Le Beau…I ain't gonna kill ya…" she said with a playful little twirl, once more laying down as Remy snorted.

Celeste didn't know whether Remy Le Beau slept that night, but she did.

(o0)

Rogue, Kitty and Kurt sat thoughtfully in Celeste's room. They shouldn't have gone into it in the first place- after all, the door _was_ locked. But that didn't make much difference when no door was truly solid and no lock could keep one out. Rogue flicked through her clothing, the persona of Celeste assuring her that she could take anything she wanted…Kurt looked through her school books and Kitty watched them, eyes wide. The Professor had dismissed them from that morning's Danger Room, in order to inform them that Celeste had left. They were simply whiling away the time, before school.

"Wow…Rogue, I so didn't know you were such a vulture…" Kitty said scathingly. "She's going to be back, like, anytime, so what's with the invasion?"

Rogue turned to glare at the petite brunette.

"We don't know that," she said simply. " 'Sides, Ah have permission."

"I can't believe zat ze Professor is just going to let her go," Kurt said, examining a doodle that Celeste had done on the corner of her maths book. "I mean- if ze bad guys are as bad as you say zey are, Rogue- she could die!"

Rogue had let them in on what the Professor hadn't told them.

"We can't let her just throw her life away," Kitty mumbled resentfully. "It's not right."

Rogue turned back into the clothes, her hands shaking. She knew more than any of them how dangerous a game Celeste was actually playing- powers or no, Celeste's prospects weren't good. She slipped on a long torn jacket; it was exactly her size…she remembered taking Celeste to the Bayville Mall to buy it, before it had been torn.

"Well what can we do then, Kit?" Rogue said, frustrated, throwing herself onto the bed. "She's gone- for all we know she could have transformed and already reached New Orleans! She could be dead, she could have accomplished her goal, she could be sittin' outside Bayville High right now! There's nothing we can do!"

Kitty was silent and Kurt's tail waved agitatedly. Rogue ran her hand through her hair.

"Let's go," she mumbled, grasping Kurt's arm and the three of them ported out.

(o0)

Remy and Celeste casually walked along the railroad tracks, Celeste amusing herself by kicking the same stone on the tracks for what seemed like three miles. Blessedly, she remained silent, giving Remy a chance to think. Each knew that they had to get to New Orleans and Remy had figured out _how_ they'd get there, but what would they do once they got there? Celeste had agreed to willingly go with him- prisoner or representative- to the Thieves' Guild Council. After all, she was one of their main targets, for the travesties inflicted on one of their own. He had decided not to contact them ahead, once he'd heard Celeste's side of the story.

However, he had omitted certain other points of information.

Like the fact that, once they reached the city, they'd both be targets of the Assassins' Guild. Julien Boudreaux had been killed by Remy and his body was missing. Benoit Boudreaux had been killed by Celeste and she had been painted as a harpy, who had toyed with his affections, only to kill him. She had then set to work on young Etienne Le Beau with a knife. And then she had disappeared off the face of the Earth, just as he had. It was laughable, but word was that they had met again and become free lance mercenaries, and lovers too…that would have riled Bella Donna something terrible.

"Le Beau!" Celeste called out. "Here's our ride!"

They jumped off the tracks, Remy rolling roughly into the prickly shrubs and Celeste landing gracefully in a clearing. She rolled her eyes.

'Idiot…'

The cargo train thundered towards them, surprisingly slow. Once it had levelled with them, the thief and assassin fought (or rather, flew) out of the cover, searching out an empty or open carriage. Gambit swore, as Celeste watched him struggling with a door, wearing a bemused expression, before jumping away to struggle with a different door. He managed to wrench one open and hurriedly gestured for her to get in. He grabbed her arm, as she sprinted to catch up, swinging her bodily into the carriage. She managed to land on her feet and scowled prettily.

"What's in de boxes?" she queried, eyes narrowing at the crates around them.

A lit card illuminated the shadowy interior of the cabinet.

"Spam," Gambit elucidated.

"Belle…" Celeste said sarcastically, sitting neatly on one crate.

Gambit chuckled at her chagrin and pulled the door closed, once more shrouding them in darkness. Celeste sighed boredly and heard Remy slide down the wall to sit on the dusty ground. She could hear him shuffling his cards and directed a stream of fresh air into the carriage.

This was going to be a great trip.

(0o)

Pietro impatiently waited against Celeste's locker…foot tapping quickly and occasionally he'd dart around the school, searching her out. Where was she? Had he scared her away, by trying to push her too quickly? Or did she think he was no longer interested, when he'd simply left her there?

These questions plagued Pietro and he once more punched a dent into the locker opposite to Celeste's. He didn't even know where they stood together…if there was a 'they' situation going on. He turned and looked at her locker again. He'd been going to impress her, by not giving into the temptation of breaking into her locker and examining everything he could find. But, if she wasn't going to make an appearance…he twirled the lock and it swung open, revealing its sparse contents.

A picture of her, Rogue, Shadowcat and Nightcrawler, cornering Wolverine for a photograph. A Post-It note, listing assignments due. Books…English, History, Physics…her art sketchbook. Curiously, he flipped it open, to be confronted by an entirely too embellished letter. It should have been the letter 'P', but it was…'E'.

'Edward, Edgar, Erik…Erick Lens-' Pietro let that thought fail, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 'Earl, Edmond, Evan…Evan Daniels!'

Pietro dropped the sketchbook, blood pounding in his ears. Impossible as it was that Celeste might be more attracted to the pincushion than him, it was just the kind of thing that Daniels would try to do. Try to steal Pietro's girl. Pietro would teach him a lesson, if he had to tear apart the sewers to find him.

"Mornin', Pietro."

Pietro jumped, seeing Rogue standing a few feet away from him. She carried an empty box, positioned casually on her hip, and she wore Celeste's ripped up jacket. Kitty accompanied her, looking from him to Celeste's locker and to the open sketchbook on the ground.

"Is Celeste with Daniels?" he asked quickly, fuming, shoving the sketchbook into Rogue's face. "Where is she?"

"Celeste hasn't even _met_ Evan," Kitty said, annoyed and bemused. "Jeez…she must've had you totally whipped, Quicky."

Rogue gave Pietro a sympathetic look as he stared at Kitty in confusion.

"Pietro," she said gently. "Celeste ain't _with_ anyone. She's gone."

"Gone," he repeated suspiciously. "Gone on holiday? Gone to the movies? Gone to pick up lunch?"

Rogue understood this rushed statement, with well-attuned ears.

"Gone away- Ah don't think she's coming back."

Pietro's face fell. Had he done something? He knew that, on the night they'd met for their forbidden tryst, she'd been called to battle the Acolytes.

"Is she okay?"

Rogue and Kitty exchanged looks, Kitty's anxious and Rogue's pained. They decided to lie, and Pietro intercepted that look.

"She's totally fine," Kitty said chirpily. "She just going to back to her family."

"And it wasn't your fault-" Rogue added, Celeste's memories of their final moments together blending with her own.

Pietro received a lie and a truth and accepted them both as lies. He snarled.

"Great…let's all lie to Pietro because he's the enemy…no need to treat me like an idiot, just because I'm not one of your stupid X-Geeks…I don't even care anymore."

He disappeared, leaving Rogue and Kitty stunned.

"Wow…" Kitty breathed out. "He really was whipped for her."

Rogue snorted, scooping the artbook off the floor and chucking it into the box. 'E' was obviously for Etienne.

"Wanda's right…Pietro is losing it…"

"Great…she told me the same thing, right after who she was crushing on and her plans for the future," Kitty said, scowling, then shooting Rogue a confused look. "Weren't you wearing a jacket before?"

Rogue startled, immediately covering her bare arms protectively, as Kitty phased her top off for Rogue to put in. Kitty giggled. Pietro _was_ fast…he'd stolen the long jacket right off Rogue, without her noticing and without touching her skin.

"Godamnit!" Rogue yelled, hurriedly scooping the rest of Celeste's belonging into the box, intent on hunting Pietro down.

Kitty helped her, then shoved her own books into the empty locker. Kitty's locker had been destroyed in the name of sparing Celeste from Pietro, so she would begrudge her the use of the locker. Rogue raised an eyebrow.

"Mine broke," Kitty said guiltily, as they began to walk.

Rogue looked put off to be seen wearing such a blatantly pink item and her mouth was in a thin line. She barely noticed, when someone seized Kitty's arm and tugged her into an empty corridor.

"Later, Kit," she called, seeing Kitty's captor. "Watch ya back!"

Kitty shot her a betrayed look, then phased her arm out of Lance's grasp. She crossed her arms nonchalantly and leaned against the wall opposite him and Lance mirrored her pose, with a sneer.

"What do you want, Lance?" she asked flippantly. "I've got, like, things to do."

"Well I, like, have information about Celeste," he said mockingly. "But I'll just take it somewhere else."

"Whoa there," Kitty said, grabbing his arm as he made to walk away. "What do you know?"

Lance shook Kitty off his arm.

"I know that the kid went missing and was supposed to be heading South. I know that Gambit was meant to be staying at the house for another couple of nights, but disappeared last night. He was headed to your _mansion_ to visit Rogue, but never came back…my Jeeps missing too."

"And…" Kitty said carefully, trying to piece together the point.

"Can you get any dumber, Kitty-Cat? Wherever Celeste is, Gambit's with her and she might not exactly be willing to be with him- he's probably en-route South with her drugged up in the boot of my car."

Kitty's mouth shut quickly, in understanding. She tried not to look hurt, or phased, by his insult.

"Why did you tell me? Isn't that totally ratting on one of Magneto's thugs?"

Lance raised an eyebrow and turned around.

"Gambit's allegiances are a little hazy and, believe it or not, Pryde, I don't hate you for constantly turning me down. I still care for you, but that's going to end with this last conversation. We're going to be heading down different roads from now on and I can't afford to feel anything for you. It's only going to get one of us killed. Goodbye Kitty."

Kitty's eyes widened at the finality of that motion, as he began to walk. Lance silently begged for Kitty to grab his arm, to take him back again. And, in that moment, Kitty moved forward, hand outstretched to take his arm, to plea for him to stay with her, to start over one more time. Then she slipped and saw only darkness and her screams were unheard.

Wanda smiled, dusting her hands off. She had used her 'luck' factor to activate Kitty Pryde's powers and she had sank beneath the ground. Maybe the cat would survive, maybe not.

"Lance!" Wanda called out and he turned, hopeful, then sighed.

"Hey Wanda," he said, putting a smile on his face, with some effort.

Wanda rolled her eyes, catching up and wrapping an arm around his and, in surprise, he pulled her a little closer. Wanda smirked up at him.

"What had the Kitty-Cat all riled up? She went storming past me and told me to stay the hell away from you."

"Oh?" Lance said, confused. "Why's that?"

"Jealousy?" Wanda said, shrugging.

"Huh?"

Wanda again smirked up at him. She snuggled into his side slightly, as his hand, almost automatically, slid around to her waist possessively and protectively. Wanda raised an eyebrow at this gesture and Lance immediately took his hand off, knowing only too well what the girl was capable of, when provoked. Wanda grabbed his hand.

"Don't stop," she said, and there was the echo of the little girl, abandoned by her brother and father, diagnosed insane and condemned to the asylum. "Please…Lance."

"Alright…" he murmured, pulling her close again.

He forgot about Kitty then. She hadn't stopped him and so they had parted ways forever. Wanda…Wanda needed Lance. And Lance promised himself to protect her always.

(o0)

Kitty floundered in the ground, screaming soundlessly. She tried to push up, but couldn't find air. She was going to die…so ends Kitty Pryde, her body never found. Sunk many miles below Bayville High, when her control slipped up and she became a ghost. But it didn't feel like she was being sucked downwards…rather, that she was being pulled.

She kept floundering, as her lungs cried for air and, suddenly, she was expelled into the open air. She gasped, then gagged…she was in the sewers. She had no idea where she was, but she knew that there were no sewers under Bayville High (else they'd have long since collapsed from all the explosions and tremors above). How had she gotten there? She looked up, hearing the splashing noises of footsteps. She wanted to phase, but was afraid to lose control again.

"Kitty!" a familiar voice called.

Kitty faltered, trying to identify it. Sewers…the Morlocks.

"Evan!" she screamed, running to meet him, arms outstretched.

She stopped, recalling his spiky armour, as Evan appeared in the dim light. He was flanked by an unnaturally tall man, his skin more than the sickly pale of lack of sunlight, his eyes a gleaming yellow and black. Kitty wanted to look away, but she didn't.

"How did you find me?" she said dazedly.

"Caliban here can detect mutants," Evan explained, keeping a steady grasp on her arm, as if to remind her she was still solid.

"I can detect and identify every mutant within a twenty-five mile radius," the man said carefully, as if unused to speaking. "You sank into the ground and started to careen in a westerly direction, with the Earth's rotation, then were spat out. It was a risky endeavour."

Kitty gaped, registering his words. So that inexorable pull had been this 'Earth's rotation'…made her wish she'd payed attention in physics. She didn't bother to correct him, when he'd remarked she'd initiated this movement- she didn't want to seem weak and stupid, losing control of her powers, before these mysterious sewer-dwellers. Evan could see she was still shaken.

"C'mon Kitty, we're three miles from the Mansion. We'll take you there."

Kitty thought quickly. She'd travelled west, underground, for six miles…

'Wow…' she thought, as she clung to Evan's arm.

However, it was Caliban who lifted the petite Kitty, so she could phase herself through the top of the sewerage system tunnels, to reach the road outside the Mansion. He muttered something, as if to himself, as he pushed her through…

"Magneto's daughter was behind you, when you lost control…"

Kitty yelped a thank you, before being left, gaping, on the road. As she sat there, Scott's car- full of students- passed her, but she didn't call attention to herself. Her fists clenched in cold fury and she punched the grassy ground angrily. That bitch Wanda had tried to kill her! She punched until she was breathing heavily, sweaty and dishevelled, to go with the fact that her legs, to the knees, were soaked and the dirt that coated all her skin.

She stood up, and began to walk up the gently sloped driveway.

(O0)

A/N: Chapter review: A motel night and a train ride with Remy and Celeste; Kurt, Rogue and Kitty deal with the aftermath of her disappearance; Pietro finds out about Celeste's disappearance; Lance drops a bomb on Kitty, saying he thinks Celeste was taken by Gambit, and ending their relationship; Wanda drops Kitty through the ground and Kitty finds herself in the sewers, to be returned home by Caliban and Evan (Spyke).


	16. Mardi Gras

A/N: Oh, by the way, Mystique was never broken in this story. She escaped after Apocalypse, but disappeared off the map, along with our other lovable villains.. Please, ignore the fact that a cargo train happens to be stopping at a passenger train station. Please Read and Review! This chapter has a few short sections, just so it's known what's happening everywhere.

(0o)

Dark brown eyes narrowed, Betsy observed the two, recognising them immediately. They wouldn't make it out of the train station without being recognised, or into the French Quarter without confrontation. It was pure folly to have returned. Betsy began to discretely pick her way through the mobs of people, trying to reach the two. Perhaps, it was a fated meeting. Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock had come to the train station to get out. She was wary enough not to use her powers, lest she be tracked.

She had, over two months ago, been tipped off that Magneto's plans involved an External by the name of Candra- a powerful mutant- who was centred in New Orleans. A power-broker, of sorts. For two months, she had worked as a member of the Assassins Guild- her skills readily accepted into their elite group of mutants. There had been no hint of conspiracy; although the majority of the mutants she worked for held strong anti-human sentiments, they still worked for the Assassins' Guild, attracted by the money- they were mercenary types. And Betsy had enjoyed that time and had excelled…so she had decided to leave. The reappearance of these two fugitives aroused her curiosity; Gambit was one of Magneto's Acolytes and the young girl...well, if half the rumours were true, Celeste (who sometimes went under the false name of Da Rossi) was bad news. A traitor, murderer, torturer and mutilator- a harpy to lead on young men then kill them.

Betsy whirled around, temper flaring, as someone grabbed her arm.

"Don't go near them," her assailant- Domino- hissed, her deep hood falling back slightly, revealing the dark circle around her right eyes. "Orders are to let them get in."

"Whose orders?" Betsy asked, snapping to attention.

Domino smirked, watching as Gambit feigned chivalry to help Celeste down and she batted her eyelashes in some parody of being flattered.

"I'm to take you to meet Candra…something big is going to be happening."

(o0)

Pietro stared sulkily from his precarious perch on his window sill- a challenge further heightened, by the obvious splitting of the wood. He simply looked at the skies, like some abandoned puppy. Some part of his persona rebelled…this was uncharacteristic, blood in the water. He should be out there with some other girl already- after all, he'd conquered Celeste already, hadn't he? No…not yet.

_Pietro…ya might not understand yet, but it's sometime better to take these things slow…_

Her disappearance wasn't likely to speed things up either. He stared lazily at the sky, wishing he had some telepathic ability, so he could seek Celeste out…or at least the Acolytes. Pietro needed to relieve his anger somehow and a fight was the best way to do, but Magneto had warned them all to stay out of trouble and intensify their training. Pietro was supposed to be the official leader, but Lance seemed to fit the role so much better than him…strong, assertive, _actual belief_ in the cause.

Lance and Wanda appeared…they had taken to walking to and from school together, since Lance's Jeep had gone walkabouts. They appeared, hand-in-hand, Wanda looking smug and Lance a little spellbound by the witch, who, seeing Pietro waved sarcastically at him. Whether through pure coincidence or pure malevolence, the wood he'd been sitting on fell through and Pietro swore and dashed away, nursing some splinters in awkward places.

Whipping into the bathroom, he scowled at his expression. His gaze softened…he was Pietro, Quicksilver…of course he couldn't stay mad at himself. He loved himself! And everyone else loved him or feared him. He smirked, revealing straight white teeth to his reflection.

He guessed he'd scared Celeste off, but he'd replace her quickly enough. A gust of wind blew in, through the small open window, flicking his hair messily over his face. A gesture so familiar that he was racing up the stairs to the open window, eyes scanning the sky…nothing. The wind teased him, mocking him.

And its laughter was Celeste's.

(o0)

"You're an idiot, Le Beau," Celeste drawled, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Y'look like some Cyclops wannabe."

Gambit scowled, lifting the dark, red-tinted sunglasses slightly.

"Remy knows dat there's no point hiding and we've probably been caught out already…just de light hurts his eyes."

Celeste shrugged as they tried to look as irrelevant as possible. And, surprisingly, in the autumn afternoon, they didn't attract too much attention. Of course, had they each walked alone, they'd have invariably been swamped by revelers and swept away.

"I love Mardi Gras…" Celeste breathed out happily.

It wasn't actually Festival Time yet, but, for the next couple of weeks, every hour of the day was happy hour on the streets of New Orleans. And it would only get better (or, depending on your point of view, worse) as they neared the French Quarters. Remy made brief eye contact with a young, brunette beauty, who immediately turned away, walking. No Mardi Gras partygoer reacted that way…

"Y'watch yourself, petit, Remy thinks trouble will be headin' our way…"

(o0)

Rogue managed to configure a winning smile onto her face, with much difficulty. The Professor raised an eyebrow at this. Rogue's request had been an odd one, especially at this time. He sighed, then conceded.

"Rogue, I can't simply allow you and Kurt to go by yourselves. I will have to force a member of the staff upon you two. You can't simply go gallivanting off South by yourselves, especially if Kurt's watch may play up in public places."

Rogue's face fell.

"Professor, Ah don't know any of the teachers who'll trust Destiny enough to leave us outta sight for two minutes and Ah don't want Logan snickin' his blades in and out at every word."

"Rogue, you must understand that it is simply not safe. I can't let you go to see Destiny- who has long been in the league with Mystique- without someone with you."

"Fahne," Rogue said sulkily. "But it's gotta be Logan…"

"Agreed," Xavier responded, with a smile.

(0o)

Celeste experienced New Orleans as never before. Absence made the heart grow fonder, and with her powers she felt the city anew. She sighed happily, lowering her eyelashes to shield her blue eyes from the late afternoon sunlight. Something was slicing through the air, some distance away…Her eyes shot open and she shoved Remy to the side, falling over him as she too dodged. The knife clattered into the ground, the blade breaking as the thief and the assassin turned to see their new threat.

"Rippers," Remy warned, bo-staff lengthening as he whirled it around expertly.

"Y'tellin' me?" Celeste shot back, one hand holding a sharp throwing knife and the other poised to strike. "Three up front and two comin' back from behind…I can't feel what their carryin'."

Remy shot her a look, then mirrored her slightly crouched position. Another knife flew and he twisted to avoid it. Celeste focused on the guy leading and sent a wave of wind directly at him, scooping him and slamming him into a metal streetlight. The rest came at a run. Celeste smiled, recognizing their tactics, as they came from all sides. They had no idea what they were dealing with. Celeste did a graceful little twirl, experimenting. The motions helped her focus her power. The wind around the two, pressed back to back, obediently began to whip around, a small tornado- the young cousin of that, which Pietro had created.

Two of the Assassins stopped, aiming knives at the girl, whose hands were outspread, as she focused.

"Mutie, heh?" one of them sneered. "Show'em de proper way t'fight!"

He whipped a knife out and, aiming for the exposed throat of the girl, threw it. It lanced through the air, true to course, but was whipped up into the tornado. Celeste's face flicked to him and the throwing knife was caught in the tempest, whirling around and around, gathering speed. Celeste's arm shot out and the knife was released and sliced through the air, into the assailant's throat. Such was its momentum that it came out the other side to thud, quivering, into the brick wall behind it, as the victim fell without a sound. Celeste's stomach rebelled at this sight, which was quickly blocked as her tornado filled with smoke- one of them had used a smoke pellet. Celeste growled and pushed off into the air, dispersing the whirlwind. From her vantage point, she saw Gambit finish off the other two would-be assassins and, as he twisted to grin at her, he clutched his shoulder as a shot rang out. There was a sound of a second shot and a bullet grazed the side of Celeste's face. She gave a yell as hot blood erupted and dropped to the ground, already unwinding her scarf to press it to her face.

She grimaced in pain and grabbed Remy's arm to wrench him to his feet.

"Cover, Gambit," she hissed, eyes scanning the tall buildings and the apparently abandoned street.

Remy obediently charged a handful of cards and tossed them around them and, as they exploded, a great cloud of dusty debris rose. Using the same tactic as she had, when she had covered Lance and Wanda's escape, she rose into the sky, sharp eyes seeking their attacker. She sent another veil of air-borne dust through the air, but saw no-one…she returned to the ground to help Remy.

"I've got a safeplace near," Celeste offered, as Remy tightly tied a length of torn cloth around his wound. "We can hole up dere."

"Oui," Remy agreed. "We gotta figure out what's goin' on."

Betsy's form materialized out of the shadows, Domino gripping her arm tightly. She recovered her sniper rifle and began to dismantle it. Betsy stared after the wounded fugitives.

"Are we following them or what, love?" she said impatiently.

"Don't worry," Domino replied soothingly. "We know where they're heading."

(0o)

"Here's far enough," Rogue told Logan.

"This lady's place ain't for another twenty miles, darl, and I ain't gonna just stay by the jet while you kids go get yourselves killed."

"Come on, Mr Logan, vhat do you think we're going to do? Run off to ze circus?" Kurt said playfully, tail flicking nervously.

"Exactly, Elf," Logan growled, flicking a few switches as the Blackbird searched for a clear landing space. "You're up to something."

"No funneh business, rahght, Kurt?" Rogue said pointedly. "See, Logan, we ain't plannin' nothin'."

"You're both in on it," he stated, as the jet settled- in stealth mode- in some crop (no doubt leaving mysterious markings).

The ramp opened and Rogue inhaled deeply, greedily taking in the scent of the South.

"Let's get the van out, Kurt!" Rogue said happily and darted down the ramp. She gave a yelp, as she stumbled and, arms flailing, landing awkwardly on the ground.

"Mein freur!" Kurt yelled, porting, as Logan swore and ran to see what Rogue's clumsiness had resulted in.

Rogue cradled her ankle, sitting on the ground. She looked up with teary eyes, biting her lip. Logan's anger was immediately replaced by concern.

"Ah think Ah tore somethin', Logan," she said, voice tight.

"Give us a look, darlin'," Logan said soothingly, crouching- Rogue must be hurt to be looking in such bad shape; the girl could take a lot. "Elf- get the kit."

"Ah ain't seein' Irene all covered in bandages," Rogue interjected. "Ah'd rather go back to the Mansion and come back again later!"

Logan's mouth tightened thoughtfully. There was no way he was being dragged down here for another babysitting mission, especially to see Destiny.

"Zat would be a good idea," Kurt agreed, nodding. "And zen Kitty can come too, when she ees not studying."

A nerve twitched in Logan. There was no way he was taking Pryde on any visits- especially not with these two. Rogue sniffled slightly, turning her face away, as if ashamed. That did it for Logan.

"Listen, kid, how's your head?" Logan said, watching her reaction. "The voices?"

"Ah bumped it, but the voices haven't been talkin' at all lately," Rogue lied; inside her mind, the inner Logan was admiring how well Rogue was deceiving him, whilst Mystique congratulated herself.

"Rogue, you can give me a tap…then your ankle will fix itself up and we can get the hell outta this place right after ya chat with Destiny. Just like the times after trainin', okay, Stripes?"

"Ah couldn't…" Rogue said bashfully, but Kurt interjected-

"I think zat we should go home…Kitty vould veally like to come down here!"

"Deal," Rogue said loudly and removed her glove, placing her bare hand on Logan's arm. "Sorry, Logan- Ah gotta do this."

"Huh?"

Rogue tightened her grip. She knew how much Logan could take. Her control over her powers had increased. It still seemed somewhat hopeless that she could ever touch another, but she could now control what she was taking. She could take another mutant's powers, without them collapsing; she even believed she could touch a human and absorb his or her powers, without sending that individual into a coma. Before the healing factor would have kicked in, she was on her feet, suddenly alert.

"Get'm in the van, Elf," Rogue ordered tersely. "We have an hour or so till gets up and he guts us. Chucky won't have no idea until Kitty spills on what we're up too."

Kurt grinned in response, disappearing and coming back with the van, Logan loaded in the back. Rogue looked at him sympathetically, then jumped into the driver's seat.

"You are such a good actor, Rogue," he said, admiringly, his hologram flickering into life. "You know zat Logan vill actually murder us?"

"Ah know, blue," Rogue said, her accent returning. "Keep an eye on the old man- we gotta put some miles on if we wanna hit New Orleans anytahm tonight and find Celeste and that bastard, Gambit."

(0o)

Celeste dried the area around her graze gingerly, turning her face this way and that. It had been a skilled marksman, to be able to hit such a target, without killing her. It was a shot aimed to warn, to scare. The same with Remy's wound. The scarring would be shallow, the bullet had simply burnt and bruised the area. Grabbing a fresh cloth, she went to where Remy was lying on the double bed. Shaking her head, she began to cut away his shirt from his torso with her knife.

"Y'must be one of de unluckiest boys I've met, Remy Le Beau," she muttered, wiping away the drying blood.

"Non…not every day Remy finds himself being undressed by a belle femme like yourself," he parried back automatically, his grin painfully reminding her of Etienne- it was bad enough being in this place, on this bed. "This your place, petit?"

Celeste swallowed. Only she, Etienne and Theo had known about this apartment. It was nothing special- it had all the comforts of any other apartment room…but it had been her and Etienne's safe place. It was outside the French Quarters and outside the Guilds. Celeste sighed…she wanted a cigarette…Etienne had tasted like cigarettes. She didn't answer his question, but went to the bathroom and, from the dusty cabinet, retrieved a small bottle of iodine- old-fashioned, but effective. She smiled slightly, as Remy cursed at her ministrations.

"A _sadistic_, belle femme," he restated. "Whose place is dis, Celeste?"

"Etienne's…s'pose it's mine or Theo's now…" Celeste said sadly, pursing her lips as she blew gently on the iodine.

Remy was silent and Celeste busied herself, packing away the first aid kit. Remy's fingers twitched slightly as he followed her around the room with his eyes. Even he hadn't known about this place, but Celeste found her way around with ease. Remy had noticed, when they'd walked in, signs of disuse…it seemed that the fridge and cupboards had been cleared out, but the electricity and water still worked and their were small signs of habitation everywhere…the unemptied ashtray, the casually kicked off shoes, the unmade bed. No-one had come home to this place. He watched Celeste pull out a drawer, then reach into the back of the dresser. She pulled out a neat pistol, loaded. Checking that the safety was on, she threw it to Remy, who propped himself on one elbow.

"Y'goin' somewhere?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't think that's a good idea…"

"I'll bring back somethin' for you to eat," she said, wrapping a scarf around her neck. "I'm gonna ask a few discrete questions."

"Y'should stay here," Remy said, seriously. "Dey'll be on the streets t'night."

"Le Beau, y'forgettin' that I'm as untouchable as I need to be."

Celeste gazed at herself in the mirror, gingerly prodding around the wound on her face. Thankfully, it wouldn't scar- not that she was worried. It wasn't large, but it was notable…and if word was out to look for a girl with a wound on her face…well, she could simply transform and be back in moments.

"Petit, don't-"

Celeste pushed the door open and was gone. Cautiously, Remy flexed his shoulder, then stood up, walking to the window. He looked outside and saw a gleaming image. She was tall and willowy, but as strong as an oak. Her eyes glistened and her frosted blonde hair reflected the lights of the carnival below…She sat casually on the rooftop, head tilted invitingly. Remy had to go to her…he shook his head clear. He had to warn Celeste that something was wrong. But he opened the window anyway and stepped on the sill. No, he'd go to this creature who summoned him so enticingly…

Candra reached out a hand and levitated Remy Le Beau to her. She was surprised her prey had even been able to resist her first mental probing, but she had the poor boy in her thrall now. She smiled and watched as her other unwitting pawn walked past the alley between the two buildings. Yes, things were going nicely.

(0o)

Logan sniffed, disoriented. He shook his head, clearing the darkness from it. The darkness stayed….it was night and he was in the X-Van. He smelt Rogue and Kurt. And the pervasive stench of slow-flowing water.

"Rogue…He's avake!"

It came to him suddenly. The trip to 'see Destiny'…Rogue 'injured ankle'…the threat of a second babysitting job, with the Half-Pint tagging along. He sat up and reached over Rogue to grab the steering wheel and turned it sharply, forcing them off the road. Any other driver or vehicle and they would have rolled. Rogue slammed the brakes down and turned to face her teacher.

"Dammit Logan- are yah trying to get us killed?" she said, enraged.

"I vouldn't put it past him," Kurt added nervously.

"Okay, brats, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Logan said, breathing hard through his nose.

"Listen, Logan…There's a really good reason fo' this…" Rogue began, but was cut off.

"Great, Stripes, spin me another cock and bull story…" he said sarcastically, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

Rogue looked hurt, and Kurt immediately got to the point.

"Celeste vas kidnapped by Gambit and he's taking her back to zis place with him! Ve have to save her!"

Logan swore explosively and muttered something along the lines of gutting a certain devil-eyed Cajun, before pushing Rogue out of the way.

"I'm driving, Stripes…" he muttered again and took off with a screech of tyres and the scent of burning rubber.

They reached New Orleans in two and a half hours.

(0o)

Celeste kept her head down, as she pushed past a celebrating group, who roared their approval at her sight. She'd been out for three hours, but she hadn't been confronted by anyone, nor had she found any specific information on the Guilds. No-one was neutral and she was popular with neither Guild and nor was her traveling companion. Someone handed her a cup full of frothing liquid, which, in turn, she passed to another person walking by. She had a lot to think about, but her powers stretched out all around her, seeking potential threats. It was hard though, with the streets so busy, and native mixing with tourist. She lifted her head suddenly, to meet dark eyes, and allowed herself to be steered into a dark alley.

"Theo…" Celeste breathed out, throwing her arms around his neck and he returned her embrace.

For a moment, she simply clung to him…overwhelmed, then pushed herself off him, wiping away tears that threatened to fall at this familiar face. Theo held her arms securely, staring at her, as if in disbelief.

"I thought dey killed ya," he said, eyes flickering to the entrance of the alley way.

"It's not dat easy…" Celeste replied, then paled. "Y'don't think I did dat to Eti- I heard-and- oh Theo!"

"Hush, hush, cher…" he soothed her. "'Course I don't think y'did it…but everyone else does. I'm sorry, Leste, but I didn't tell anyone 'bout you two…"

"Dat's okay…" Celeste assured him. "What's the story. Brief me."

Theo knew how to do this and exactly what Celeste needed to know.

"Story is that y'were leading on Benoit and Etienne. Etienne and de Assassin fought and y'needed to hide y'prints…y' shot Benoit and den stabbed Etienne. Somethin' of a urban myth dat you tortured and mutilated him when he was still alive and calling your name…obviously untrue, but de precious bit is when you and y'_other_ lover, Remy Le Beau, eloped with de jewel we were after…Remy havin' killed Julien Boudreaux when Julien tried to kill you."

"Merde! What did de Guilds do?" she exclaimed, feeling a twinge of sadness at the thought of Julien- a brother to her- being dead.

"Well, since Remy was off honeymoonin' with yah and Belle being distraught over the death of her cousin and brother, de engagement was obviously off…de streets haven't been safe…Rippers after Thieves and de other way around…but you're de villain here…and Remy, but God only knows where he is…De authorities been puttin' a curfew on de Quarters, but had to lift it for Mardi Gras…you need a place to hide out?"

"I'm stayin' at me and Eti's place," Celeste said absently.

Theo seized her arms and pressed her against the wall, expression intense.

"Don't go back dere," he warned. "Day after de night at de museum, de Assassins _and_ Thieves found dat place and went through it…it's probably bein' watched. Celeste, dere are other powers in play…it's not safe. Someone's probably in dere right now."

Celeste paled.

"Remy…"

Celeste ran to the entrance of the alley and looked around desperately. Etienne was shouting her name, but she ignored him…she had lead Remy like a lamb to the slaughter…and him wounded too. She forced her way into the crowds and cursed them, hitting this way and that, until someone enveloped her in a drunken hug. She swore again and transformed, hearing Theo following her.

Theo stumbled over the prone body of some drunkard, staring at the discarded scarf and shoes on the ground. He picked them up- they were Celeste's.

"Celeste!" he bawled out loudly, but received no reply.

(0o)

"This is amazing!" Kurt exclaimed, as someone shoved a drink into his hands.

Logan automatically knocked it out of his hands.

"This ain't a playdate, kid…I have no Godamn idea where that kid is…Any ideas Rogue?"

"Ah guess we could try the Thieves Guild, but Ah don't see us getting' a friendly reception," she said apologetically, looking interestedly towards the floats on the next street.

"This is hopeless," Logan sighed.

Logan cracked his knuckles in discontent, sniffing for some elusive scent. The place reeked of alcohol, rubbish and hidden trysts…not a whiff of anything familiar. They continued to search, eventually getting into the thick of the crowds, but staying close to the buildings' facades. Kurt heard it first.

"Celeste! Celeste, ya' damn fool, come back!"

His pointed ears twitched in that direction and Rogue turned too.

"Dey'll kill ya, cher! Celeste!"

Logan turned, his nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing, a picture of rage. And then the shouter appeared, his handsome face a picture of confusion and distress. In his hands, he carried what was certainly Celeste's scarf and shoes. His eyes swept over them, as his eyes sought their mutual target. Logan charged at him and the youth gave a frightened yelp. Tugging him by the scruff of his neck, Logan forced the boy into an alley, pinning him against the wall by his throat.

"Where is she?" Logan growled menacingly, his grip tightening.

The boys face was turning red, but he resolutely tightened his lips. Logan was vaguely aware that Rogue was yelling something at him, but his nostrils were full of the scent of Celeste and fear. He gave a shout of shock- rather than pain- as something cracked over his back and he dropped the kid, who fell, wheezing, to the ground. Rogue shook her head as she threw away the remains of the wooden chair.

"Sorry, Logan, yah went kinda crazy on us…this kid's a friend of Celeste's," Rogue explained, then directed the next question to him. "Theo, rahght?"

"Oui," he replied, gingerly massaging his throat.

"We're lookin' for a friend of ours- ya know her. Celeste. And Ah'm pretty sure that y'd be holdin' some of her clothes and yellin' her name a few seconds a go, am Ah correct."

"Yah lookin' for her," Theo chortled in disbelief. "Join de club, cher, you and de rest of the city!"

Logan grabbed him by the collar and wrenched him to his feet. His blades extended, mere inches from his face. Theo stared, wide-eyed.

"Listen, bub, we got ways of findin' these things out…ya gonna make it hard for us, bub?"

Theo's grin widened. He wouldn't betray Celeste; she'd helped him out on a few occasions. Namely in discretely helping with the planning of his missions and tipping him off when the Rippers were hunting in the same territory.

"Never heard of dis femme…I was calling for m'Cecile."

"You little punk…"

Rogue pressed a bare hand into Theo's arm and then grimaced, as he slumped. She held her head for a moment, as she sorted through his thoughts. One thought stood out at that moment; what he had been fixated on, the moment she drained him.

Celeste was in danger. And he knew where she was heading.

Rogue smiled.

"Dis boy's a mutant," she drawled. "Invisibility field."

In explanation, she suddenly disappeared, then reappeared. She then grabbed Kurt's arm, whispered some directions to him, and he ported with her and Logan. Three tries made it to the building, the fifth directly into the empty apartment.

The first thing they saw, pinned to the counter by a knife, encrusted with old blood, was a note.

(o0)

Chapter Review: Alright, Celeste and Gambit are seen (by the just-introduced Psylocke and Domino) at a train station; Pietro's moping; Remy and Celeste are attacked and wounded by Rippers and Domino and escape to a safeplace of Celeste's; Rogue and Kurt head South on a personal mission, and Logan is in the way; Celeste runs into Theo (Etienne's brother) and is warned to stay away from that place and she returns in a panic; Logan finds Theo with Celeste's clothing, Rogue drains him and they head to the apartment…the _empty _apartment.


	17. Hush Now

**A/N: **Sorry for the absence! This isn't a proper chapter, but just a taster of where my story will be going…my attempt to be all light-err-air-ey or whatever it's been labelled by the critics…next chapter is in progress.

_What's that…you look on in confusion…well then, I will tell you a story and, pray, don't interrupt._

_It is a story of a city- an old city, so rich and vibrant, where, in a world of business and working for the man, money was to be had if you had quick hands and an eye for profit…and, oh, how the youths did avail themselves of this._

_It is a story of a city- an old city, steeped in tradition and old families with older money, where, in a world of wild parties and flurries of bright colour, the streets knew blood…and, oh, how the youths did bleed on those streets._

_Yes, it is a story of a city…and so much more._

_It is a story of a world, a race- a young species, where, in a world of fear, the quarrels of race and religion and technological advance, a new race emerged and the war began._

_And, oh, how the youths would fight…_

_Now hush…the story continues._


	18. Ah, so

**A/N: **Sorry for the long time between updates…I'll make up a story about discovering my birth mother, fighting off child-snatchers sent by said birth-mother and developing eight new diseases to cover for myself…shifty eyes. Anyway, this isn't a long chapter, but it didn't feel right to elongate it anymore than it already is. We bring together all the main characters of New Orleans (plus an extra one) and we shove them in a house and film them as they vote each other off the show…lol, just kidding. Read and review!

_Call yourself a thief, little one? I felt you coming before you knew it yourself…_

A derisive, violet-eyed gaze met a shocked, clouded blue ones, piercing Celeste's mind and jolting her from her wind form- perhaps, a more battle-seasoned mutant would have recognised this as a telepathic attack, and even attempted to shield her mind, but Celeste so-happened to be on the same side as the only two telepaths she knew. Celeste was knocked back into her physical body, born by her momentum, to hit the ground…she barely managed to raise her arms to protect her face as she rolled, her left arm jerked from its socket and she settled, with a groan, in front of a dark alley. And then blessedly cool hands on her arm and softly-spoken count, an all too familiar tact…

"Five, four, three-"

Celeste couldn't hold back a sharp cry, as her arm was neatly forced into place, and turned slightly hazed, blue eyes to a face from her nightmares. A face that had become synonymous with death and cruelty, to Celeste.

"Belle…?"

"Oui," Bella Donna acceded, offering a hand to pull Celeste to her feet. "It's been a while, _souer_."

Celeste promptly slapped that hand away, stumbling to her own feet with some violence, eyes burning. Who was she, to look so cool and welcoming? So hurt and confused? Bella Donna was a torturing, sadistic bitch…those treacherous, bright blue eyes suddenly filled with tears of old pain. A sudden image flashing in her mind…Etienne's bright brown eyes, quickly becoming bloodied hollows as the same knife that killed him was plied by well-manicured, female hands…the hands that reached to help her up. The knife that held the summons to the bridge to the counter, where Remy had first lied down. Bella Donna had-

"Celeste, y'know I didn't do dat…" she appealed, not moving to touch her. "We need t'talk 'bout things-"

Celeste flinched anyway.

"Y'know what, _souer_," she retorted angrily. "I haven't forgiven you fo' killing me yet…and if ya think that taking payment out in Etienne's blood, that there's nothing between us, then I gotta tell ya that there's a river of blood between us and I ain't buyin' whatever story you have t'spin for me! And now ya' take the only one who knew de truth and say we need t'talk!"

There was laughter now, rich melodic, and as grating as adamantium claws on a diamond chalkboard. It was not a sound heard by the ears, but by the mind, a telepathic message…the same voice that had jolted Celeste from her murderous flight…Celeste looked around in fearful shock, while Bella bowed her head. Wordless, Bella slowly lifted her form in the air, withdrawing to stand by a new figure, shadowed by two others.

Bella Donna looked up, the incredibly tall woman behind her placing a hand on her shoulder.

'Candra…' Belle's voice echoed in Celeste's mind.

Candra, whose very existence was disputed. A name spoken in hushed tones. Candra, the Immortal, the Power Broker of New Orleans- she, who had created leaders and destroyed them. Candra the External, the holder of the Elixirs of Life-

"-and power," Candra spoke now. "You might acknowledge that the Princess here has tasted some…she is weak, but she will advance if she obeys me."

Candra was stunningly beautiful, red lips curved into a mocking sneer, dark eyes derisive. A picture in an archaic dress, wanton in her display of flesh, silvery-blonde hair spilling to her slender waist. A woman who demanded worship. Her silent guards that stared blankly forward…Remy Le Beau, expression empty, and Julien Boudreaux, half his face covered- burnt since an explosion at a museum…they all wore scars from that night.

"You're no goddess," Celeste spat out at her, falling into a fighting stance. "You're just some telepath…and you have something I own."

Celeste did not hesitate, borne by tempest fury, she flew at Candra, knife in hand, prepared to cleave flesh from bone, to make her swallow every ounce of cruelty that had come from her, whether indirectly or not…to slice that hold that held Remy to her will. Then Bella stepped into her path and, as her flight slowed, and her blow redirected, Bella spoke to her angrily, sending up a hand and a viscous barrier between her and her target formed. She could have pushed through, but at Bella's fierce look, her hand stayed.

"Hear her out," she ordered and Celeste meekly obeyed, landing three feet from her and jumping backwards in flight, to stand at a safe distance.

Candra wore a smile now, as Bella Donna returned to her position by her side.

"Good children…you'll all suit me nicely…" she drawled in unaccented English. "This is a business proposition…perhaps you'll consider being reasonable, seeing as these two wouldn't-" at this, a gesture towards her blank-eyed guards- "but first, I must deal with some unwanted guests."

A hand was waved imperiously and a heavy, metal bin slammed against a wall, as Kurt opened his eyes in a cloud of smoke at the end of the bridge…had he not ported them, the hiding mutants would have made a lovely new addition to that building's wall. Candra observed them, focussing hard on Kurt for a moment, before waving her hand again, sending them scattering. Celeste let out a noise of dismay, and immediately moved against Candra, only to be halted with the ultimatum.

"Hear my offer and I'll let Le Beau and your X-Men live…fight me and you'll have an empty shell left."

Held to ransom…Celeste's luck in trying to escape, to find belonging beyond the Big Easy…leaving was the hardest part. She halted and suddenly her feet were jerked from the ground and she was enclosed in a white sphere, alone with Candra, who floated too. Celeste found herself immobile, as Candra ran a hand over her cheek,

_This is my city…like I have done for many, I offered the guilds wealth, power…all I asked was that they allowed the pawns to kill each other and payed tribute to me- but they fought to ally against me. Is that not terribly rude? You were not foreseen, but you carried out the job…you and your doomed romance lit the flame for the war to resume, my catalyst…but now, I have no need of you…will you die now?_

Celeste shivered as that hand touched her lips gently, Candra's own perfect lips curving into a triumphant smile, as if her victory was secured.

_No…I don't want die, not yet. I won't die._

Her thoughts seemed to spiral into the void, but Candra heard and laughed.

_Luckily, it seems someone is interested in you…to use your powers to distribute the Elixir…the shape-shifter and the metal-mover. I will let you go, if it is for them and their cause._

Shape-shifter? Metal-Mover? What did Magneto and Mystique have to do with her? Yes, having sworn herself as being a member of the X-Men, they were, by default, her enemies (current relationship with the Brotherhood withstanding). Her powers? The Elixir?

_Why?_

The single word response echoed clearly.

_They need a conduit to reshape the world in their image…it's really quite Biblical, when you look at it._

Reshape the world? Candra's words held her mind…they sounded so very- significant. Why did they need her? Her powers weren't exceptionally strong and, sure, she hadn't slighted any of the head-honchos of the Acolytes in any way to her knowledge. They needed her to be a conduit? Her eyes widened and her thoughts poured out of her mind towards Candra.

_Tell me more about this new world and why they need me._

Candra obliged.

_Using my Elixir of Power, I am able to awaken power in humans and increase the powers of mutant kindred. They helped me to create it, so I am indebted to them. Besides, in the new world, I have been promised power beyond that I hold now. But without you it would be a long and gradual process. They desire the use of your powers to disperse this Elixir throughout the world and then-_

And then…all hell broke loose and the void of whiteness was broken. Candra screamed.

Julien and Bella collapsed simultaneously. Bella, seeing Candra and Celeste floating immobile in midair, attempted to break the connection between Julien and Candra's minds using a telepathic attack and had succeeded, her energy draining in that same instant, falling into darkness. The battle begun, the lines of the 'good guys' and the 'bad guys' all but non-existent.

Candra had held Julien to her, promising Bella his life and mind, should she complete her bidding…and she had, hadn't she? She had them all…Celeste and Remy included. That was what was asked of her. But when she tried to release Julien, Julien (under Candra's control) had attacked her…and she'd fought back. She used the powers that Candra had granted her, using her Elixir, against her…telepathy and slight telekinesis. Kurt seemed to have been met with a messy, if not severe, blow to the head and was sprawled over the edge of the bridge, as if he'd been thrown off and unceremoniously hauled back up to the surface. Logan sparred with a still blank-eyed Remy, while Rogue…

Rogue and Candra screamed as one. Rogue had gotten behind her, her own self-constructed mental barriers hiding her presence. And then, removing her glove with tentative speed, she'd looked carefully at the glazed eyes of Celeste, who stared unblinking into Candra's own eyes, before grabbing Candra by the back of the neck. White light flashed in Rogue's eyes, pulsing, as Candra's immortal essence flowed into hers, overwhelming her…images of linen-clad slaves, of glowing liquids in small vats, of entering a room, flanked by Julien, as Remy propped himself up on his elbows, mouth opening in panic…of carving a tattoo of an angel called Celeste from the back of the body of a young man.

Candra screamed still and with a pained noise, Rogue pulled back, body flying away from Candra's. At that moment of Candra's weakness, the bonds that held her to her puppets broke. Remy and Celeste collapsed at the same moment Candra did. Rogue stumbled back, falling to her knees and holding her head, before looking up with blazing eyes at the creature once called Candra. In place of the brazen, perfect woman was a wrinkled crone…the crimson lipstick forming a bloody surrounding to the gasping shape of her mouth. So, Candra was that old, and Rogue didn't even drain her completely. She had ruined so many lives. So many screams. So much blood…so long, Candra.

"Unforgivable," Rogue said, her voice ethereal.

And then the bridge collapsed, the heavy bricks closing over Candra's form and forcing her deep into the water, past discarded bottles thrown by revellers, past sunken beads of parties past and deeper, to where Candra would be left in darkness, powerless, as the stone rotted and the darkness seeped in. The bodies of her comrades and former foes levitated above the roiling water, Rogue steadily directing them over the flowing water and deposited them on the stone road. She sighed in relief, as Logan's worried face filled her vision and her knees gave way.

Logan shook his head, catching Rogue as she fell. One, two…six unconscious bodies, all of whom could well be suffering from mental or physical injury. He shook his head, as he moved to hoist up Celeste's prone form.

"Stupid kids…no way in hell am I moving you all to the Blackbird."

He stiffened, a familiar scent. Cajun. A polite cough announcing his presence.

"Y'won't have to, homme…" Theo announced, with a neat, respectful bow, leading a group of eight fully-armed young men, who stared at the group in slight awe. "We'll take care of 'em."

Did I disappoint you? I hope not..:' (…anyway, please review for me! Chapter summary: Celeste discovers the puppetmaster, the external, Candra, and is reunited with Bella Donna and Julien Boudreaux and Remy Le Beau, while Logan, Rogue and Kurt catch up. Celeste is told that Magneto and Mystique need her powers to reshape the world, but is unable to get much farther than that. Rogue kicks Candra's butt and the thief boys come to the rescue.


	19. Council

**A/N:** Ehm…I'm sorry? Well, five months later, I slap up another chapter. It came to me in a dream…but I forgot it, so decided to pull a quick one and reshape Celeste and everyone else's future. So, yay! New chapter!

**(/\)**

Celeste stirred uneasily, coming to life slowly. Her hands briefly clenched into fists, clutching the smooth, clean linens that were tucked warmly around her. She must have made some small noise, because there was the sound of the door creaking open slightly and someone light entering. The dark-haired mutant automatically stilled her movements.

"Celeste?" a familiar- though unexpected- voice queried hesitantly.

Celeste shot into a sitting position, her eyes widening as they caught sight of Bella Donna. Then, immediately, her vision clouded over with white dots and her head felt as if it had been caught in a particularly violent giant clam, as the pressure built. She fell back into the pillows behind her, spiralling back into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

The next time she woke, she was not alone on the bed. The killer headache had been dulled to an incessant throbbing. She turned her head slightly, her eyes mere slivers of cloudy blue-gray. Bella again, looking quite peaceful, like she'd decided to simply lay by Celeste and fell asleep. As she had indeed done. Hesitantly, Celeste reached forward, brushing some pale strands of hair from the girl's face. Bella's eyes shot open, and Celeste withdrew. No-one moved, then the blonde spoke.

"You're at de Thieves Guild…your friends are all here too."

Celeste blinked.

"And Julien?"

"Julien's fine…" Bella murmured back. "He's at de Guild keepin' things calm, 'fore someone does somethin' stupid."

"And Remy?" Celeste asked nonchalantly, cautiously propping herself up on one elbow; she smiled, as Bella Donna's scowl answered her question. "So- so we're all alive…that's…good."

Celeste looked around the room, recognising the rich mahogany of the walls, and the plush carpet on the floor. They were at the Thieves' Guild. Her eyes were momentarily caught by her reflection, and her lips parted slightly in shock, one hand flying to her cheek. Embedded, like some jewel upon her face, was a sliver of what appeared to be some inorganic mixture between a diamond and a drip of shining mercury. It was under her eye, like some parody of a frozen tear drop. She touched it, knowing automatically that it wouldn't come off, but willing to try it anyway.

"A parting gift from Candra," Bella remarked, sardonically. "I'm not gonna ask what she showed ya, when she was pawin' at you in the sky. But de rest'll wanna know."

"She said I was...the catalyst. That I would be Magneto's tool to end the human race..." Celeste managed a small smile, and an almost desperate giggle.

Bella Donna gave Celeste a slightly critical look, and the fake smile she wore slowly dissolved. Celeste sat up, her face suddenly serious, her pink lifts pressed into a stern line.

"Alright, princess- what happens now?"

Bella Donna finally smiled.

"Now, dere's Council."

(/\)

The tension was palpable, in the meeting room of the Thieves' Guild. The room was divided into three seconds- Thieves, Assassins and the X-Men. As the two teenage girls entered the room, all eyes briefly flickered their way. Bella made straight for the Assassins, taking a seat amongst them, her authority unchallenged. Celeste paused for a moment, eyes turning to Bella and the dark-eyed Theo, before moving to stand with the X-Men.

Kurt was crouched in a chair, a cross of bandaid over his left eye. Rogue sat next to him, smirking slightly as Remy leaned over to whisper something into her ear, before her cheeks coloured slightly. Logan was leaning against the wall behind them, a thick cigar held in his lips, eyes watching everyone. Attention was once more focussed on the woman, standing in the very middle of the room. Said character stared at Celeste with open curiosity, eyes lingering on the mark on her cheek. A throat was cleared at the head table, Jean-Luc LeBeau, head of the Thieves' Guild, stood up.

"We're here to get dis mess sorted out and decide what's gonna be happenin' now that Candra's gone. It's come to our attention dat we're dealing with somethin' bigger than us- mebbe the fate of all of us. Humans. Something big's gonna be happenin'. Somethin' bad. Somethin' that especially involves a few of us."

Jean-Luc paused his speech, eyes lingering on the X-Men, his serious eyes catching those of his adoptive son, Remy, who made a slight motion of his head. Jean-Luc continued.

"Candra was developing a new elixir- somethin' else entirely. Somethin' that'd mean de en-"

He was interrupted, as the woman standing in the middle of the room, quietly overpowered his voice. Her voice was quite bland, almost husky, and the words were spoken almost robotically. Eyes were narrowed at the intruder, who had interrupted the Guild leader. She was a relatively short, wiry woman, with short cropper dark hair, which fell around her face haphazardly. On her head, a pair of scarlet-tinted glasses sat. What drew the eyes, however, were the marks under her eyes. They were identical to the one that Celeste wore, but stained to a bloody shade of red.

"Candra was no sorceress, or demi-god. She was a mutant. Like Theo Le Beau, Remy Le Beau and Celeste Boudreaux. Like me. But she was more powerful. She played on the superstitious fears of the people, offering power to those who obeyed her. It is through her that a new breed of mutants has been spawned."

Celeste felt it necessary to make an intrusion of her own, to this upstart woman with her monotone voice.

"Who are ya and how do y-"

"My name is Sage. I worked with Candra, when she was developing this newest Elixir. I have the ability to mentally record any image or pattern and to jump start mutant powers. My genes are the basis, on which the new Elixir was created. It jumpstarts latent mutant powers, reconfiguring the individual's DNA."

"It turns human into mutants," Bella said carefully. "Like it did me."

"Yes, like you," Sage acknowledged, tipping her head slightly in acknowledgement. "You were quite fortunate. You were one of Candra's successful experiments. The Elixir is not foolproof- fifty percent of test subjects died during the reconfiguration process. Thirty-percent liquidated. You are on of the twenty percent who survived experimentation," she finished, looking dispassionately at Bella's pale face.

As if in ire, wishing to unsettle the stoic woman, Celeste made a bold move.

"Candra said...she said that Magneto and Mystique wanted to use me to spread this. Wanted my powers. How?"

"You're powers are relatively newly-manifested. You have much destructive potential, which I can read. The Elixir is to be spread in the air. If you chose to, you could spread the Elixir through the atmosphere within days. The only other mutant capable of such atmospheric control is Storm, Ororo Munroe, but her alliances are clear. You are the prize. Your alliances in the past have been dubious at best. You have initiated connection with the Brotherhood of Mutants. You are an outlaw and murderer. Your mother was a victim of mutant hatred, whose precognitive abilities indicated that you would be able to revenge her-"

"That's enough," Logan suddenly growled, seeing the way that Celeste's shoulders had stiffened, in an almost panic. "The girl's with the X-Men."

He mentally noted what Sage had said. What she had said was painfully true. Celeste was most likely to swing. However, despite his faith in Celeste, Logan could see through the veneer that had so charmed the other students. The dangerously blank looks, the way her eyes would shift when she was in crowds and how she could be startled into flinching by small things. Celeste was a chameleon, trained to easily blend among the crowd, biding her time.

Celeste was pale, an almost imperceptible trembling over her skin, and she desperately wanted to disappear. To just fade…she wanted to run. _Leave it all…_She shouldn't have come back home, revenge mission or no. 'Etienne…I'm such an idiot…' Her plummeting mood was interrupted, as Kurt reached over and tugged a loose lock of dark hair almost affectionately.

"Don't look like zat, 'Leste…it's scary!" the blue-furred mutant said light—heartedly.

Celeste blushed slightly, aware that she had been full ready to simply aerate and disappear, leaving this crisis completely. She felt disconnected from the whole situation. Her loyalties wavered and, unfortunately, some part of her would not stop insisting that she should simply look out for number one.

"Sorry," she said apologetically. "Just kinda unpleasant to be told exactly why I'm gonna be all up for being an instrument of terror and destruction. Mebbe end up being responsible for a few million deaths."

"If the Elixir is dispersed throughout the atmosphere, approximately **five billion two hundred eighty-one million seven hundred seventy-nine thousand **people will die," Sage said dispassionately. "That is why Magneto will seek to win you over, or control you. Your powers are not evolved enough to be an adequate tool and you are not powerful enough- physically or mentally- to protect yourself against those, who would ally themselves with Magneto and his Acolytes."

She hardly registered the phenomenal figure. Celeste could concede to that point. Her powers were good for running from Acolytes. Her attack on one of Magneto's men- the good thief who was virtually supporting the slumping Rogue- had ended up with her wiped all over the floor. However, the young woman was saved from response, by a desperate pounding on the door.

Theo quickly opened the door, and a young thief burst in- his mouth was slightly open as he gasped for air, as if he had sprinted from wherever he'd come from, so important was his business. He was wearing a suave looking outfit, the buttons of his dark scarlet shirt partially open, and his face was streaked with blurred painted outlines. His eyes flicked around desperately, before settling on Jean-Luc, who quickly came to him. Dignitaries were dropped.

"Jean-Luc- dere's been an attack. One of de balls. It's bad. Don't know what it is. Chemical. One of de floats. People died. Some bad stuff. Nico got caught up. He's dead. Dere's something not right."

"Where is dis?" Jean-Luc barked authoratively, ranks of thieves moving to hear his orders. "I need more information!"

The name of the place was given and there was a collective sound of shocked outrage. This was a place, which would be attended by many of the rich people of New Orleans, the unofficial dignitaries of the city. Orders were given. The council was dispersed, Theo ushering the X-Men out of the council room, promising that they would be kept informed. As Theo briefly brushed against Celeste, she grabbed his arm.

"Theo…I have to go there…help me…" she pleaded softly, her eyes beseeching the young man.

Theo gave her a doubtful look. He, too, had learnt something new about Celeste tonight. He had never entreated for her to share information from her past, because, well, it was just an impolite thing to do. Who wanted to know what drove a young girl to become an assassin? But he still had faith in her. Celeste had avenged Etienne, and her feelings for him had been genuine. She harboured him no ill will and vice versa. He gave in, pulling her away from the crowd.

"Y'can fly, can't you?" he whispered hurriedly, leading her out, Celeste barely needing to be lead from the place, whose layout she had memorised. "I provide de cover for you. You get dere and get back, 'kay?"

"Oui, mon ami," Celeste said. "But I don't fly like other femmes, y'know."

Theo gave her a fearless grin, as she adjusted her position, so that she was flush against him. There was no embarrassment, just a mutual sense of mischief, despite the nature of their goal. She made a short noise of surprise, as Etienne's form faded, then the invisibility flowed over her own form.

"Y'never did," was his muttered response, as the wind stirred around them and Celeste flung them into flight.

(/\)

Inside, Sage tilted her head, feeling the wind stir around the building. She had- by virtue of being a mutant- been placed in a lounge with the X-Men, and stood by the window. The other mutants had just realised that Celeste was gone, and were making the assumption that she'd gone off with one of the other groups. She looked skyward.

"You should keep an eye on that girl. It isn't safe for her to go off alone."

Attention turned to Sage. Logan swore and headed to the doors, meeting with a thief that had been assigned in the hall outside. The X-Men followed Celeste's trail, looking for the source of the tragedy, that was intimately entwined with the Elixir.

(/\)

**A/N: **Mmm…so what do you think. I'm kinda 'hmm' over it, right now. Quick summary: well, yeah, this is mainly an informative one, where Magneto's plan to wipe out humanity and convert its remnants into mutants is revealed, as is Celeste's involvement. Doubt is instilled in Celeste, when the Guilds and the X-Men hold council. The council is interrupted, when an attack is made against a ball in New Orleans. The next chapter will be heaps more interesting.


	20. Blondes and Battles

**A/N: **Tis me again. With a chapter. And we introduce a significant character, more issues, and we start to mix in the good with the bad, blurring the lines a bit. Oh- yeah, there's a bit of a lot of blood, but nothing too messed up. I. Just. Like. The. Colour. Red. Enjoy, my childs!

(/\)

One slender, stiletto-wearing foot gently turned the young man's face to the side. The owner of said foot clucked her tongue, shaking her head slightly. What a waste. The man's tan face was handsome and bloody. His mouth was curved in a rictus of agony, and blood had leaked from his eyes, nose and ears. Slightly interested, the female used that foot to turn the man's face to the other side, making a pronounced noise of disgust, when she dislodged flesh and the cheekbone, ivory splattered with dramatic red, was revealed. She decided that this abandoned body, would be her dance partner.

She grimaced in disgust, smoothing over the black gown she wore, tightening the yellow sash. Oh well, this was a necessary sacrifice. Magneto would elevate her into power and status, once the war was over. Of course, the war was just about to begin.

This was a test of the Elixir. And it was successful. Bodies were all over the ground. Some appeared relatively unharmed, with droplets of blood and bile beaded on their lips; the smell was horrible. The woman wrinkled a powdered nose. Those who didn't undergo the mutation process successfully had apparently liquidated in their fine, pressed trousers. And then, there were the few who seemed unscathed. An older woman in the corner, moaned occasionally, her hands clawing at the smooth surface of the ballroom floor...she hadn't manifested a mutation yet, but she would. After all, she was a survivor of the test.

But she was running out of time. She'd gotten all dolled up for a reason. She reached into her clutch and pulled out a small communicator, pushing a button to light up the beacon. She turned her head casually to the side, glaring at the shadows along one side of the wall.

"Wrong way, pet," a strongly English-accented voice said, smirk evident, as she appeared from the shadows behind their would-be mole.

From that same shadowy portal, Psylocke emerged, a leering Mesmero in tow. The violet-haired woman shook the hypnotist off her arm with a warning look.

"Well, let's get this over with," the blonde woman spat out, sharing no fondness for either of these two of Magneto's allies.

"Pleasure," Psylocke- also known as Betsy Braddock- purred, a psionic blade forming around her hand. "Have fun with the X-Men."

Psylocke plunged the glowing blade straight through the other woman's forehead, so that she collapsed onto the floor. For good measure, the assassin made sure it lingered there, so that the blonde would not wake up too soon. She looked at Mesmero, who was staring at the long, exposed legs splayed ungracefully on the ground.

"Get it over with, monkey," Psylocke growled, eyes scanning the room. "We've got to leave. Soon."

Mesmero glared at the woman, of apparent Asian descent, before leaning beside the blonde and placing his hands on her temples. He closed his own eyes, performing the required alterations to her memory, reshaping her. He lingered for a moment, his work done. Then he suddenly felt his feet sinking into the floor, as Psylocke angrily pulled him away.

(/\)

Celeste gasped for air, as Theo clung gratefully to the ground, shooting Celeste a glance of horror mixed with fear. Her response was a nonchalant yawn. She'd given him fair warning that it wasn't exactly gonna be a smooth flight. In fact, hers was more of a controlled glide (alternatively, fall), treating their bodies like feathers caught on the wind. The female mutant wasn't exactly used to carrying another- especially one so heavy- and, thus, there had been some...turbulence, could describe it. Enough to have Theo panicked enough to occasionally lose control of his powers, so they flickered in and out of visibility, as they flew over New Orleans.

She gave him a sharp look, as they sobered up. Celeste had turned the wind slightly. This was a hint picked up from observing Logan's more animalistic behaviours. The wind could have brought the scent of smoke, of poisonous gas of residual gunpowder or blood. It certainly brought the smell of blood, as well as the heavy stench of less pleasant bodily wastes. The garden had a festive air to it, with streamers wrapped around the trellises there and gaudy beads littering the ground. They approached the building, their fear increasing.

All the foggy French doors were closed. The windows were sealed. Ominously, in front of them, one set of doors had been smashed to pieces and someone had tried to struggle through the gaps in the metal frame, leaving the remaining glass bloodied. Even more ominously was the fact that the gap had been sealed off. With a steel panel. Twisted to make it airtight, so that one couldn't see beyond it. It took a good hand with metal work to complete that.

"I'll go in. Try and find another way in...I don't think the enemy is here anymore," Celeste said.

Theo gave her a questioning glance. He caught a brief glimpse of fogged over, gray eye, before Celeste's form dissolved. Celeste momentarily floundered in her form of air, before calming her shattered nerves. She made sense of the different planes and surfaces, separating the grass from the pavement, then searching out for a way into the building. She found it, her form seeping in particle by particle. Once in, she changed into her solid form. Her trench coat and outer clothing must have been left outside, as she was back in the uniform, that Storm had first made for her. The first thing she noticed was that her bare feet were in blood.

She stared for a moment, her toes clenching slightly as she cocked her head slightly. No use panicking. Her eyes swept across the room. There were no exits left open. In the centre of the room, mounted on a small pinnacle, was a silvery ball. It looked like it had been a centrepiece decoration. A decoration that had broken from a sphere in a mechanic whir, revealing a series of small holes that would have sent jets of highly-pressurised gas from its centre. A time bomb that had been planted.

Then her eyes were drawn away from that silver contraption, to fall on the bodies on the ground. There was no movement she could see. Her eyes widened, when she saw the shallow rise and fall of a woman's breast. She was unconscious…she had become a mutant?

There was a loud shattering noise and glass rained down on the ballroom floor. From the skylight above, Etienne appeared, landing neatly on a relatively dry patch of floor. He looked around the ballroom, eyes wide. He made eye contact with Celeste and, as if frightened to break the eerie silence, for fear of resurrecting what terror had befallen these revellers, gestured for her to start checking for survivors.

She began the task, gorge rising as she progressed. The process had been painful…their faces were contorted, their hands clenched into tight fists. She gagged dryly (thankful she hadn't eaten in a while), as she turned the face of a fancily-costumed man to the side, only to have her fingers easily puncture the too soft skin of his throat. She queasily cleaned her fingers on his embroidered vest.

A strangled yelp, followed by the sound of a body making firm contact with an even firmer wall stole her attention. She looked up just in time to see Theo slide down the wall, clutching his winded side. Celeste was sure that heard ribs would have cracked, but the thief only seemed a bit winded and surprised at having been sent flying. Celeste's hands moved of their own accord, running to her sides, waist and down her leg. She was completely unarmed, but by no means defenseless. Her eyes zones in on Theo's attacked.

God, but Celeste was starting to hate the blondes of the bayou.

As a rule, she was gorgeous and, apparently, powerful. She wasn't slight and wirey, like Bella, nor was she a curvaceous nymph like Candra. Her form was fit and tan and she could easily match Ororo and Jean Grey in height. In another situation, Celeste would have been on guard and intimidated. However, this blonde's stature was belied by her sprawled position and the expression of pure, genuine confusion and horror etched over her striking features. Theo was watching the two warily and made a motion that he was going to keep watch, holding his side slightly. Celeste approached the blonde warily, keeping her expressions neutral to friendly. To her surprise, it was the other girl who spoke first.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him- I don't know- I didn't do this- all these people! Oh God- what happened? Let me call my parents, please, they'll sort this out-" the girl's panicked outpour was interrupted, as her vision clouded and her head was suddenly filled with memories…

_She was on a break from college, leaving California's beaches to check out the colours of Mardi Gras. Her parents hadn't wanted her to go alone, doting on their only daughter, worried about the 'types' of people she would encounter._ Her mother had sobbed as her father systematically burnt pictures of his little cheerleader and A-grade daughter; she had no parents now. _Cheering the brightly-festooned floats with some new, tourist friends; a handsome mand, in a half mask, throwing her a token, inviting her to a private ball. Shopping in New Orleans for something to wear…brimming with excitement and nervousness._ A rush of anger, as she glared at a violet-haired Asian, as they sank into the ground. _Sinking to the ground, as a white gas clouded the room- a man in a concealing helmet and cape, throwing metal plates, sealing the room. Men and women and children- eyes leaking scarlet, joining her on the floor, bodies seizing. Her own body burning like wildfire. This strangest feeling in her limbs as she cried out and punched the ground in pain, over and over, till her knuckles bled…then they stopped bleeding, stopped feeling and the ground shattered under her onsluahgt. Then falling into darkness_. A pair of tattooed hands withdrew from her sight, leaving a cloudy fog over her memories, that had now cleared to this. Someone had put a hand on her pulse, and she'd flung her arm out defensively…

Theo lifted his head to the skylight. He heard distant sirens and the faintest hint of helicopter blades slicing the air. He furrowed his brow in concern, but gave the girls a little more time. From personal experience, he didn't wanted to get in this girl's way again.

"Who are you people?" the blonde asked suddenly.

"Celeste Da Rossi- New Orleans Sewerage Control," Celeste lied cheerfully; in her current outfit, she looked more like she was heading out to a penthouse swimsuit shot, or was, indeed, a mutant terrorist. "You gonna freak out on us? We've got to ask you a few questions, Miss…?"

"Danvers," she said quietly, a small frown on her mouth, as she felt something was terribly wrong. "Carol Danvers. I'm on break from California…my God, what happened here?"

Celeste paused, before phrasing the question delicately.

"Carol, how do you feel about mutants?"

On that note, Theo- who had disappeared, investigating some small noise he'd heard outside- made his return. Behind him, there was the sound of small explosives going off and a door exploding inwards. Theo skidded on the floor, almost slipping on the blood.

"We need an exit. Now."

Right. If they were lucky, it was just a SWAT team. And now they had to deal with finding an exit in a room that had been sealed off completely. Theo's invisibility hardly extended over two people, at the best of time. Celeste had proven herself ill-adapted to carrying heavier loads, and could not possibly aerate her form, with those of Theo and the newly-born mutant, Carol. She doubted she had enough energy to aerate two of them. She turned to the male of the group.

"Theo- you keep Carol and yourself outta sight. I'll give 'em a chase, so you guys can escape, oui?" she ordered. "I'll let myself be caught, then escape later."

"You'd better be right, 'Leste," Theo parried, as they retreated to the further reaches of the sealed building. "I know y'can take care of yourself, but these aren't the regular guys."

"Get out of here. Now. Carol, see if you might be able to help with that hell of a punch you've got. Nothing can hold me," she boasted slightly.

_Win her to us._ Carol heard this voice speaking in her head and was slightly confused, though every ounce of her being seemed to support this. _Be the one to rescue her. Make her hate and fear the humans._

Celeste's eyes suddenly lightened in colour, as the wind stirred around her form, pulling her hair into a dark halo. For a moment, Theo was a little frightened, as ripples spread through the blood all over the floor and the delicate fabrics and richly-coloured hair of the bodies stirred to life…a small smirk played over Celeste's features for just a moment, as she grasped the reins of the air.

"Now, run," she hissed, eyes entirely silver…Theo took note of this- her eyes were glowing silver, just like that small, diamonesque scar on her delicate cheek. "I'll take care of these fools."

Theo took Carol's arm and immediately lapsed into invisibility with her, a sudden feeling that- even though they couldn't be physically seen- the former assassin still had them under those dangerous looking eyes. He knew that they had only turned gray when utilising her powers, before the incident with Candra. It was part of the briefing they'd had on her, when her presence was discovered by Remy. This was potentially very bad. Carol, on the other hand, seemed strangely calm…she knew she should be hysterical, but her breath was even as was her heartbeat.

She raised her hand, reaching forward to touch the wall…she felt its texture and gave it a slight bit of pressure. She felt…odd. And even stranger was when she drew her arm back and threw a punch at that stone wall, which cracked loudly, before giving way, exploding outwards loudly, dusty clouds of powder filling the air. Theo swore and flickered back into visibility, as Carol had just single-handedly destroyed the wall and fresh air flooded inwards. Carol calmly took Theo's arm, as her eyes glazed over slightly.

"Tell me where to go, kid," she said, her voice entirely different in tone than before, a mix of cockiness and very haughty. "And keep us out of sight."

Theo yelped and obeyed, as a vice-like grip closed over his arm and he felt himself pulled into the air for the second time that day. There was the sound of yelling on the other side of the building, and Carol robotically flew over there.

"Celeste…" they each whispered, Theo's eyes wide, while Carol tried to think why the girl was so important to her.

(/\)

Celeste was fury embodied. She arrowed down the halls, the winds lifting her so forcefully that a small spray of blood lifted from the ground below her. She needed to fight and win- she'd been so useless against Candra, a veritable damsel in distress. The X-Men- her friends- had seen her as being weak. Well, she wasn't.

She built a picture of her target, as they suddenly pulled together, as an eerie wind ripped past them and suddenly, in whirl of torn, airborne streamers and cloudy dust, Celeste appeared. She took in her enemy- at least fifteen men, heavily armed, wearing body armour. She'd have to get creative- buffering winds weren't going to win her this battle. It seemed that the authorities below had regrouped to take on this prey. She could see their leader's mouth moving, probably warning her.

Celeste was still an assassin at heart.

As if in compliance, she lowered her form from the air, and the winds immediately died down. She turned her glowing eyes downwards, and gathered her power. No-one else was close enough to feel it, but she was building up the pressure of air around her body. There was a dull roaring sound in her ears. The men were surrounding her, weapons all directed at her. She registered what the leader was saying.

"Hands behind your head, mutie! Get your hands behind your head now, or we will use lethal force!"

"Force…" Celeste repeated dreamily, as she raised her hands behind her head. "Lethal force? I may have to defend myself…"

She suddenly raised her hands above her head, and heard rifles being cocked in caution. She gathered that powerful concentration of wind energy then slammed it downwards, releasing a concentrated hurricane of blasting wind, unleashing the four winds. She lifted into the air as men were flung backwards forcefully, opening fire desperately and only hitting one another as their quarry disappeared. Droplets of scarlet ichor joined her small typhoon, like a red benediction around her. Silvwer eyes surveyed the damage she'd done- regretting the deaths only slightly- as the remaining men aimed weapons at her and opened fire. It was much to her amusement that she redirected their shots, sending bullets slamming into the walls around her, caught in unearthly winds. She was having fun.

That stopped Celeste. She was having fun. Abusing her power. Killing and injuring humans. And she was enjoying herself- she was loving this feeling of control, that she was stronger than them and they were suffering. No, that was not good. Bullets continued to be pulled away from her form, slamming into the walls around her. Why did she feel this way? Not long ago, she had been the assassin that never killed.

She suddenly felt a searing pain in her face and cried out, her hand raising to her scarred cheek, which seemed to burn angrily. Celeste felt her control wavering and knew she had to get out. Something was wrong. Her eyes opened, as suddenly light flooded in and the sound of breaking cement joined that of roaring in her ears. She felt cold metal suddenly flick out, biting into and wrapping her limbs.

"Oh no- you've caught me," she sneered, suddenly able to recognise what Logan had identified to her as being a 'Sentinel'- she might not be able to take this guy down, but she could at least escape.

And then electricity ran through those metal tentacles and she screamed in pain, her muscles contracting violently and control faltering. She bit her lip hard, trying to focus enough to escape, to change. Then the charge intensified and her body became limp, as those metal ropes withdrew her to the sealed capsule inside the Sentinel's chest.

(/\)

**A/N: **Finally, I've gotten this one out. Oh yes, this is a little confusing. Yes, Carol is kinda the bad guy, but, yeah, Mesmero messed with her, so she doesn't even know it. Summary: Magneto's goons turn up at the party to plant a spy, for the X-Men to adopt; Celeste and Theo arrive and discover the disaster; Celeste meets Carol, and company arrives; Carol believes that she had just become a mutant, yet knows something is wrong; Celeste creates a diversion for Theo and Carol to escape, but realises something is wrong with her; Celeste is taken out by a Sentinel.


	21. New Allies

**A/N: **Totally gonna get all these chapters loaded. Onwards!

**New Allies**

Carol and Theo did not see the damage that Celeste had inflicted on the initial sweep team; they had seen a large truck, followed by a second vehicle carrying additional manpower, pull over nearby, as the streets were cleared by soldiers. Theo's control had begun to waver, so Carol had flown to the top of a nearby building, where they would keep an eye on Celeste. For a while, there had been the reassuring sound of gunfire- a sign that Celeste was still drawing fire, but unharmed and able to continue distracting them. They, they'd seen trouble.

The burden of the large truck made itself known. A Sentinel, unfolding itself and taking shape, appeared. In the past, it had been a last resort of what had been dubiously labelled 'mutant control'. However, should Magneto claim responsibility for the attack…well, it would be open season on known mutants. The Sentinel had unfolded itself, boosters flaring, to peel the roof off the building like opening a can of sardines. And it had hooked something. A little flying fish called Celeste, fried her then swallowed her alive- well, at least she thought she was alive. The Sentinel took to the air and went hurtling to the north.

And that's as much of the story that Theo, with Carol's hesitant interjections on the slightly embellished story, could piece together, under the overly-bright scrutiny of Professor Charles Xavier. The council room was the site of the video conference; the three tables (Carol now stood near the X-Men, with Theo) facing Xavier and his teachers, Hank McCoy and Ororo Munroe.

The mood was subdued.

The Thieves' and Assassins' quickly intermeshing network had located three more attacks of an identical nature within New Orleans. There had been one failed attempt. The malfunctioning sphere had been airtight stored, for study. They awaited the telepath's verdict.

"Come home, X-Men," he finally said. "Magneto is obviously mobilising and I don't want to lose anymore of my children. Return with the Blackbird. Mr Le Beau, Mr Boudreaux- I would like to invite your sons to join my institution. Their talents can be accepted and nurtured there and their grasp on their powers strengthened."

"I speak for all'f us when I saw hard times are coming, mon amis- Bella will be safer for here. Her powers are…unnatural and a gift from a serpent," Marius, leader of the Assassin's Guild, uttered, then continued with a hint of bitterness. "Y'have enough problems keepin' ya eyes on your own children, heh? You've already lost one of mine."

Remy caught Theo's look and rolled his eyes in return. The mutants were almost certain that they could recall issuing a death writ on his adoptee, Celeste. Bella felt a twinge of sorrow- the old wound of losing a sister was newly town asunder. She sympathised with her father. The revelations of the last few days- especially the reappearance of Julien (who had admitted to knowing of Celeste's ill-fated romance with the thief, Etienne)- had a massive effect on both family groups. They pulled together- the pawns finally realising that it was no longer just a game of power plays and gambling, but a war.

"I'll be join' de team, if that's alright with you, Prof," Remy said casually.

"-and me!" Theo added, unexpectedly. "My cos'll need someone to keen an eye on him…and I wanna help out. To find Celeste."

"You are welcome. These halls are always open to those who wish for peace. I'm not asking for soldiers..."

"But it's a war," Carol said, suddenly fierce. "And the humans won't think twice about drawing the line at mutants versus humans. I will fight. I've been given the power to. I will fight for the mutants. For us."

Xavier could see the woman's eyes blazing with belief, lined with anger; he misconstrued, thinking it was on behalf of Celeste, who had fallen victim already. But Xavier knew the damage that the windy-wielder could potentially create. The damage she'd inflicted. Six had died during her 'distraction'; eight were critically injured and one comatose, having been flung against a wall, by a heavy force. However, the newly-created blond mutant would be a powerful asset. One that could not simply be left to her own devices.

"Miss Danvers…you, too, are welcome. I will contact your parents to inform them of your intentions."

"Please, no! My father's military and…he hates mutants…they both hate mutants," Carol appealed. "I'll tell them in my own time. When I've come to terms with what I am…"

Xavier nodded.

Once the meeting had dispersed, Remy briefly clasping the arm of his adoptive father, while Theo- youngest remaining nephew of Jean-Luc- was engulfed in a tight hug. Theo, Remy and Carol followed Logan. Rogue and Kurt had, incidentally, missed that conference, postponing the inevitable remonstrations of Professor Xavier for their reckless behaviour. The five young mutants were herded to the X-Van and Logan disappeared back into the Guild. The bland Tess was openly plaintive- a change from her usual demeanour- about being manhandled and deposited in the front of the vehicle.

Further crammed, Rogue was forced to sit, blushing slightly, on Remy's lap. The seatbelt she pulled fell victim to her newly-discovered superstrength and she swore loudly. Theo and Kurt shot each other equally devilish looks, before looking invitingly at Carol.

"Ugh, how 'bout NO?"

"The next person to speak will be on baby-sitting duty for the New Recruits till the end of this war," Logan said with a scowl. "No one says one word. Or I kill them."

Rogue snorted, rather unladylike, as the X-Van roared into life and started speeding towards the X-Jet.

_+END CHAPTER+_

**A/N:** Short chapter, peoples. Kinda just the end of one part of the story and the prelude to the next. Actually, the next few chapters will be ones introducing the new relationships and stuff, then the action and good stuff starts again. Basically, Xavier summoned the team home and they leave with four new members: Remy Le Beau, his cousin Theo, Carol Danvers and Tessa (Sage).


	22. Dreams of the Future

**A/N**: Flashbacks. My guilty pleasure. I use them to give my character a life…after all, out in the imaginative world, there are so many characters who are incomplete and only partially formed. And Celeste is hot, so I can't do that to her. What kind of a mother would I be then? Okay, 'mother' is way too scary a concept for me…so, let's say…'omniscient author'.

**Dreams of the Future**

_+Flashback+_

Celeste sulked prettily, pink lips pressed into a pout, as she turned her face up to look to her mother. The woman returned this look, sending her a reassuring smile, that was- as always- marred by her refusal to look into Celeste's eyes. Celeste thought it was probably because they looked like her father's…not that she'd ever seen a photograph of him, or met him. The girl's raven locks were tucked securely under a white fur cap and her slightly too-slender form was swathed in the folds of a rich, blue jacket, trimmed with white fur. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and her blue-grey eyes examined her mother for the usual signs.

Celeste's mother, Annette, showed signs of having possessed great beauty. Now she was like a pressed flower. Her dark eyes were suspicious; her hair, while dark as her daughter's, was dry and brittle- in fact, brittle described her well. Her pale skin was papery and she was forever haunted by a look bordering on fear. Of course, this look was multiplied ten fold today. It always was when her mother decided it was time for them to move.

It was as if they were being pursued.

But Celeste knew nothing followed them. It was a side-effect of her mother's 'gift', this paranoia. This need to run. To escape the past and present and bravely attempt to stay abreast of the future. Maybe she had foretold her own death, or that of Celeste. Either way, she still used her ability to put bread on the table and occasionally splurge on clothing, meals and accommodation.

Her mother was a fortune teller. Not a gypsy peddling in tarot reading and crystal gazing, but a true precognitive. She could look into a person's eyes and tell them that their home would burn down next week. And it, invariably, would. Oftentimes, it would be through the customer's attempts to thwart the future. Annette warned them of this, but few would heed her warnings. The others that prepared for it, however, would sometimes offer her hefty rewards. And then she found her limit…looking into the next day was one thing, and the next month would exhaust her. But looking years ahead…that's what broke her. Looking into her own future. Knowing that every time she looked ahead, she only spurred her descent into madness.

Looking into Celeste's future. Seeing what she would bring about.

"Mamam," Celeste said plaintively. "Do we have to leave already? I liked it here."

She was ignored, but didn't sniffle as some children might have. Her mother was looking around shiftily and other people waiting on the train platform gave the bench they waited at a wide berth. Celeste could entertain herself. Her keen eyes examined the others on the platform. For a moment, her curiosity was caught by two other young children.

They were unusual. They unashamedly held hands- probably twins- and while the girl's hair was short-cropped and brown, the boy's was a shocking white. The sister's dark eyes flicked worriedly to their tall guardian, whose high collar and brimmed hat concealed his face, and her brother's hand tightened protectively.

"Mamam…can I go talk to those children…," she said, pleading desperately; her response was a sigh of resignation.

"Go on then- don't you get yourself caught, little angel," her mother replied, her voice soft and sonorous.

The seven year old pulled free of her mother and good-naturedly trotted over to the other two children. They looked at her suspiciously.

"Are you twins?" Celeste said, looking and playing the part of a child from rich parents, who had escaped her guardian. "Is that your father?"

"No," the boy immediately shot back and the girl looked scared. "He says he is but."

"Pietro," the man said, the voice deep with barely-concealed warning. "Child, you should go to your parents."

She ignored the man pointedly. Celeste's curiosity was insatiable; she talked to everyone with ease and her running mouth often got her in trouble. At least it put her victims at ease- she also had a habit of having quick hands. A quick glance behind her showed her mother, eyes wide, looking straight at her. Annette's eyes weren't really focussed, so she was in the middle of a vision. She heard a discontented noise from the man, but turned her eyes on the silent girl. Her smile was teasing and inviting.

"What's your name?"

"Wanda…" was the quiet reply, and the girl looked at her with unsure, dark eyes.

"Did your mother die, Wanda? Is that why you have to go with this man?" Celeste said. "If my mamam died, I don't think my father would come for me."

"She was sick for ages," Wanda said, biting her lip, but continuing. "But we're going to America to live now. With our…father."

"We're taking a plane!" Pietro said loudly, now that his sister was taking the strange girl's attention. "And gonna live in a HUGE house!"

"Pietro, Wanda, the train is here," the man said, not deigning to give further attention to the black-haired child.

"Are you going on the train too?" Wanda said, brightening up a bit. "Oh!"

Celeste was about to jubilantly respond with an affirmative, when she felt her mother's vicelike grip close on her arm and found her yanked backwards. She let out a yelp of complaint, but her mother's eyes weren't on her. They were on the tall man, who took a step in front of children. Annette's eyes were wild with anger and entirely focussed on his face.

"You cannot have her, monster!" she spat out, retreating backwards. "She'll not be your tool! Never!"

Then she turned and bolted, Celeste stumbling after her, trying to get her attention. Such was her mother's state of panic that she'd abandoned all their luggage and were now leaving the platform, heading for the streets. Pietro and Wanda looked shocked, but from the shadow of his high collar, Magneto looked thoughtful, icy eyes locked on the retreating mother and daughter.

_+End Flashback+_

Professor Xavier looked at Celeste's floating form. She looked like a drowned angel. Her dark hair occasionally cloaked her face, wearing a plain white shift, and her feet were pointed downwards. The thin scar of silver glimmered in and out of sight. She slept in this state, locked in dreams. The telepath's expression was infinitely sad. Logan's was openly disapproving. They had been contacted by SHIELD, to whom Celeste had been left in custody. She had been registered as 'Extremely Dangerous' and put straight into a cryogenic sleep. Xavier could probably have pulled a few strings (and Logan could have torn the place apart successfully) and had Celeste released.

But he didn't.

Celeste _was_ dangerous. To herself, to those around her. To anyone who threatened her or someone that she cared for. And she had been targeted for recruitment by Magneto. It was best to keep her quiet, at least until the threat had passed or Magneto no longer needed her powers. Eric had always been good at swaying the resolves of mutant youth, who had not had such an easy time as others.

"She's in no pain and isn't conscious of her status," Nick Fury, SHIELD leader, said, flicking through a data panel that monitored Celeste's vital functions. "As long as she's in this state, she's under no threat from the government; however, I won't lie to you. With the way things are going, she'll have no defence should the government turn against the mutant population. She'll be very vulnerable."

"We have no choice," Xavier said, turning to face the scarred man. "She is too much of a liability to be free. I'm afraid she's just as dangerous as my step-brother, though without a strong purpose and being so liable to persuasion, she is a loose cannon."

Fury nodded in understanding, but his sharp eyes strayed to Logan. Logan's hands were clenched into tight fists, knuckles pale, as he stared through the glass that separated the floating Celeste from the world. Perhaps he remembered a time when he had been confined like this. A danger. An animal who wouldn't die or submit. Logan looked up sharply, seeing movement, as Celeste's eyes flickered about from shuttered eyelids.

_+Flashback+_

"You're hurting me!" Celeste cried out, but her mother's grip on her hand only tightened. "Mamam!"

"Hush, baby, hush…" her mother said, eyes wild and words pouring out of her mouth quickly. "I won't let him find you. He won't hurt us again. He won't take you away from me."

Celeste, now nine, was able to keep up with her mother. However, this time her mother's fear seemed more than just a product of imagination, a vision that swirled from the madness that now afflicted her. Someone was chasing them. Not as they ran to the train station, but as they flitted between small towns and big cities. Their pursuer closed in- the room in the dingy hotel that they'd opted to stay at, had been torn apart. Celeste and Annette had returned from the circus, the daughter leading her meandering mother, to that scene. Now, it was snowing and it was night and they fled, as if for their lives.

Their path lead them to a stockyard, where trains carried goods across the countryside, bound for abroad. Celeste was unceremoniously herded into one of these shipping containers and a large bag forced into her arms. She didn't know it, but her mother had prepared it. It carried food, money and small, but valuable, trinkets that they'd acquired during the years.

"Mamam..." Celeste repeated, mutely.

"Don't worry…I've seen it. You'll be alright for a while…you will find fortune and family…and love. And I love you," she said fiercely, more lucid than she'd been for a long time. "I won't let him take you away! He is only human. You will defeat him!"

"Maman," Celeste repeated, large eyes tearing up and edging towards the doorway.

"You will live, my precious, little one," Annette said, tears spilling down her face. "I love you so much."

Then the door was slammed closed, and Celeste screamed in despair, plunged into darkness among huge crates. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the door, finding no purchase, locked in. Alone in the dark. She sobbed, hitting the sides of the train carriage till her hands bled and she sank to the ground, soaking her scarf with tear. She blindly opened the bag. A blanket was on top. Sniffling, but knowing there was nothing she could do, she crept to the furthest corner from the door, behind crates, and covered herself. The crying started again and Celeste sobbed dryly till sleep claimed her. Days passed. Celeste judged them by the small ray of sunlight that fell through a small hole in the ceiling. If only she could just escape so freely, as the sunlight and the wind and the water.

One morning, when she woke, Celeste smelt salt air and the carriage was opened. She moved quickly, eyes watering from the bright light and dodged the yelling worker. The stowaway escaped to the docks.

_+End Flashback+_

"Why are we doing nothing?" Theo said in frustration, lying on the ground staring at the ceiling.

"Vhat are you talking about?" Kurt said, porting to cling above the Cajun. "Vhe are cleaning the X-Jet….vell, _I_ am."

The blue mutant scowled. While Kitty's punishment had been inflicted while Rogue and Kurt were in New Orleans, the half-siblings had received a firm tongue-lashing upon return. Theo and Kurt had also become fast friends, their mischievous natures drawing the two together. Kurt was fascinated by his stories- especially the ones involving the exploits of Celeste and the fabled Etienne, which had eventually expanded to include Theo. Theo had been especially interested to hear about how Celeste interacted with other students of Bayville High, the Professor and- as Kurt had explained angrily- the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. However, both young men had noticed a profound lack of action on the part of the Professor. They had been told that Celeste was in cryogenic sleep and the custody of SHIELD. Then business in the Institute had gone on as usual.

Celeste's absence was mainly noted by those who were closest to her: Rogue, Kurt, Kitty and Jubilee. Jean sometimes looked troubled and was suspected of having mental arguments with the Professor on the topic. Logan had chosen to go on hiatus, disappearing after dropping off the new mutants. However, the rest of the Institute were focussed on accommodating and getting to know the newest 'family members', Remy, Theo and Carol. Tess could occasionally be seen, but she had made the laboratories below her sanctuary. It seemed that Beast was getting to know her, though. Together, they were analysing the machinations of the failed device from New Orleans.

"Celeste…" Theo sighed. "Why won't he let her go? She doesn't have t'come back here."

"He von't let her go?" Kurt said, flipping in the air and landing crouched near Theo. "The Professor isn't holding her captive."

"Vell, he isn't letting her go, either," Theo said, an edge of mockery- he'd discussed his theory with Remy-, who agreed. "He's seen her. He's talked t'those holding her. He doesn't want her to get out, or Magneto might use her."

"Zat…sounds fair," Kurt said slowly. "Celeste wouldn't want to be used."

Theo shook his head.

"It's not as if he can force her to do anything. She'd have to make the choice to use her powers for him."

"She'd say no!" Kurt exclaimed indignantly.

"Tell your Professor that…"

_+END CHAPTER+_

**A/N: **sheds a tear I love writing flashbacks. Anyway, a little overview and clarification (I often wonder if only I can follow my own storyline): Celeste is taken into custody by Nick Fury and SHIELD, who- with Xavier's agreement- decide to keep her in a cryogenic sleep, so as to keep her safe from Magneto. We're given an insight into Celeste's past and introduced to her mutant mother, Annette, whose precognitive abilities would push her into madness, while prompting her to send her daughter away. I totally liked little Wanda and Pietro. I couldn't resist. Considered bringing in a demonic, little Kurt for a circus flashback, but didn't happen. Oh- and though life continues as normal at the Institute, some are troubled as to why the Professor does not send them to rescue Celeste.


	23. True Colours

OOC: Hmm…I'm editing the other chapter- namely, that Celeste didn't kill anyone during the incident at the ball massacre in New Orleans. Cos that's kinda unacceptable…here is a new chapter after a bazillion years. Enjoy. x.

"Y'know, princess, you're gonna burn a hole through him if you keep staring, girl," Jubilee said matter-of-factly, flipping a page of a magazine.

"Me? Staring?" Amara said, aghast. "At that ill-bred thief?"

Rogue inclined her head towards the younger girls, smiling slightly to herself. She could have interceded on Theo's behalf and mentioned that the younger Cajun was considered something of a prince of New Orleans, but she didn't. The mood on the Friday night was rather subdued. There had been a code blue drill at the school today, and, during the whole-school flocking to the oval, there'd been an incident between Jaime and some older students. Long story short, Jaime had multiplied in panic and all the mutants were pulled up and warned.

Jubilee gave a pronounced yawn, stretching…her pink top lifted slightly to reveal her tanned midriff and through slightly shuttered eyelashes, she grinned as she saw Bobby's eyes on her.

"I'm off to bed- I swear Scott wakes us up an hour early and runs us twice as fast just 'cause the Professor and Logan aren't here."

"Power. It's going to his head," Amara said, standing up as well…they shared a room with Rahne and knew the wolfgirl would be furious if she was woken up twice.

"Hypocrite!" Bobby yelled from in front of the television, where he, Kurt and Theo were playing some game to do with shooting down giant bugs.

Rogue and Remy were lying on the couch, somewhat bored. The hour was fast approaching midnight, which was Scott and Jean's cue to exert the authority left to them. Storm was the only adult currently at the mansion and had agreed with the Professor to let the senior students take control for the weekend. Beast was somewhere in Europe, studying The Device with one Doctor Moira McTaggert.

Somewhere down below, the ridiculously expensive grandfather clock chimed loudly. Soon after, Remy, Rogue, Bobby and Kurt were sent, grumbling, bed. Remy raised an eyebrow in query at a particularly innocent-looking spot of air as he left. He figured his young cousin felt like wandering around, as was his habit at night. Remy wanted to correspond with Belladonna as to the situation in New Orleans. While he'd tried to depart from the Guild-life, it still seemed to insist he be involved in some way.

Theo waited until the light's flickered off, before starting up the games console again. After an hour or so of this, he began to wander down the hall…he'd realised something about his powers. When he was in a dark place, he could see the setting in hazy green light. Nothing terribly clear, but enough that he could wander the dark halls with ease. Theo suddenly froze, nearly jumping, as an ethereal and frightening figure appeared in the hallway, floating just above the carpet. Carol…her eyes were open and wary, Most alarming of all was the fact that Remy was trekking after her, a curious expression on his features. Theo took a sharp intake of breath that did not go unnoticed. While Carol flew past him without noticing, Remy gave the smallest shake of his head and twitched his finger to beckon his young cousin to follow. As Carol unlocked the door and departed with Remy, Theo just managed to slip out before it was closed.

And, on the top of the stairs, green eyes blazing as Remy stepped out, Rogue stood, wearing a black singlet and slacks that hung low on her hips. What that blonde bitch wanted with her boyfriend required a good answer.

Rogue was sitting at Remy's laptop, a troubled expression on her features…Belladonna had sent a full report of the attacks on New Orleans to Gambit, complete with her own thoughts. A test run. Remy was leaning over the back of the chair, hands on either side of Rogue's shoulders, wearing gloves so as to not brush her bare skin.

There was a quiet, but insistent tap at the door and, by the time that Remy went to it, Rogue was choking in the overwhelming scent of Remy's cologne in his cupboard.

"Hey, Remy…mind if I come in?" an annoyingly sweet voice said. "Just for a second."

"Eh…sorry, Carol," Remy said, holding the door only ajar. " 'M very busy right now. Y'have a problem Scotty can't help with?"

"It's about…Celeste," Carol said, looking up through lowered lashes. "And what happened in New Orleans. I don't wanna talk about it here. Jean's powers make me kinda nervous."

She gave a small laugh that grated on Rogue's nerves. If she'd seen what Carol had worn to that little midnight meeting she'd have not hesitated about putting her invulnerability to the test. She wore a scandalously short, white nightdress that seemed to make her skin glow gold, even in the dim light. In fact, as Remy eyed her, he'd place money on it not covering more than three square feet of her skin. Carol seemed to take this inspection on a different note, smiling.

"Come with me, Remy…please?" she appealed. "It's important. And the Professor isn't here and I don't trust anyone else."

Remy deliberated…Carol had yet to prove herself as being anything more than a mutant new to her powers, impressive as they were. In fact, if anything, her lack of guile was confusing. He'd never met a girl – even the many bimbos that had presented themselves to him- that could be so beautiful, yet so, well…ignorant-seeming.

"Oui…but not far," he finally said, turning around and grabbing his coat…for some reason, he was compelled to chuck an extra pack of cards into his pocket.

He followed Carol outside, aware of not only Theo following, but Rogue too. Carol seemed different now, wary, even. She lead him away from the mansion, silent, a small, dark smirk on her features. As she slept, Psylocke's presence had appeared in her mind, Mesmero in tow…they'd awakened her true self, mentally interrogating her. They now knew where the mutant girl, Celeste, was and small, seemingly innocent bits of information about her that could prove useful. Her supposed 'relations' with one Quicksilver seemed to be of particular interest to the memory-manipulating Mesmero. She was leading Gambit, the Acolyte traitor, into a trap. Psylocke and Mesmero were waiting and Carol would overpower the thief, while the two psychic mutants turned their powers to him.

"This not far enough, heh?" Remy said, as they entered a small glade of trees that lead to the woods, marking one boundary of the Professor's land.

"Yes. Far enough," Carol said, fiddling with her watch, before turning and floating to the ground.

Carol smiled, quickly grabbing Remy's wrist…words were on his lips about the flattering nature of this, but his heart was given, before Carol's innocent smile turned to a smirk. As one hand quickly reached for his cards, she jerked his whole body towards her with irresistible power, as she drove her knee straight into his stomach. At once, Remy collapsed to his knees winded and dryly retching as he struggled to stand up, cards in hand. Before he could so much as charge them, Carol had grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up into the air, before slamming him face first into the dirt. Remy tasted blood and earth, as a knee pressed into the small of his back and two ridiculously strong hands held his head down.

"Psylocke- where's Mesmero?" Carol's voice could be heard as Remy spat blood from his bleeding mouth, before Carol forced his face back into the dirt.

A cultivated voice spoke, English in origin, and female. Remy blearily judged her to be an upper-class London girl. He managed to lift his head enough to see boot-clad feet and long legs, wrapped in clinging blue spandex.

"Mesmero's indisposed," Betsy said, disinterestedly looking at her nails. "I'm to transport Gambit to a secure location until we can work on him. You go back in and play your part."

"Are you kidding?" Carol bit out, expression furious. "I can't go back like this! Xavier's gone, but there's still a psychic there! She'll have me outed in a moment, once they discover Gambit's gone."

"Eh, can y'answer Gambit dis? What's going on?"

"Shut it, traitor," Carol said, pressing her knee down in warning. "You just lie nice'n'still or I'll rip out your spine and save Magneto the trouble."

Theo had stealthily crept there and now surveyed the scene with wide eyes…a pretty woman in a rather scanty costume stood over Carol, who evidently had Remy pinned to the ground. He didn't know the woman, but it sure didn't look like they were the good guys. He had no weapons but his surprise…and that'd do little against the woman who could bench-press over a tonne and take a cannonball to the stomach and giggle.

"Let's get this over with, pet. I'll be taking Gambit and you'll be heading back up before you're noticed," Betsy said appealingly.

"This is bullshit!" Carol hissed, standing up and holding Remy up by the back of his neck. "Does Magneto want me out? No- I'll go with you and get my orders from him. I don't trust you, Psylocke."

"Of course," Betsy said, smiling sweetly. "But first…"

Her hand glowed purple, as a spike of psionic energy formed. She carefully eyed Gambit and Carol (otherwise known as Miss Marvel). She tread towards Carol, blade of energy in hand. She could sense a presence close at hand, but couldn't hold its location. Suddenly, as she raised her hand to send the blade through Remy's body and into Miss Marvel's mind, she heard running footsteps and, reaching into the air, found an invisible arm and flipped its running owner over her body and into the ground. At that same moment, a girl with a rather large rock in her hand appeared behind Carol…Psylocke hesitated.

Rogue slammed the rock into the base of Carol's skull, expecting her to stumble at least. Instead, Carol immediately flew into the air, Remy still in hand.

"If it isn't the little Rogue, Mystique's unwanted brat," she spat out. "Here for your traitor boyfriend? Then catch!"

She threw Gambit into the air, before spearing at Rogue, pulling her fist back to destroy her. Rogue's eyes followed Remy's fall, knowing she couldn't reach him in time to do anything. Instead, she bent her knees slightly, prepared to move in any direction, knowing she wouldn't be able to take a direct hit. As Carol neared, she dodged to the right, and, instead, Carol only dealt her a glancing blow to the shoulder that tore a cry from her. Carol paused, considering Rogue, who held her severely bruised shoulder in one hand.

"I wondered if I was impervious to your powers…guess I am," she said, sneering in a way that made her pretty face ugly.

Rogue swallowed, rolling her shoulder and dropping into a defensive stance.

Theo rolled off the ground, shaking his head…he prepared to attack the woman once more, only to see…she stood directly beneath Remy, arms spread as if to catch him. At his speed, he should crush her…but the moment they made contact, they were sinking into the ground. Theo gave a desperate shout, his invisibility failing as he bolted towards the spot, just as Remy's flailing hand disappeared beneath the soil. For a moment, he scrabbled in the dirt, then fell backwards with a yelp as, just as fast as Remy had fallen, he and the woman were spat back out of the ground.

"I'm on your side," Betsy quickly said, dropping Remy (who scrambled to his feet, miffed at being saved by a woman), and jumping backwards warily.

"Y'company says otherwise," Remy said, flicking a glowing card into the dirt at their feet.

Simultaneously, they all jumped backwards.

…and Carol tackled Rogue from the sky, knocking the wind from her and pinning her to the ground. She grinned sinisterly, before, with one hand, grabbing Rogue by the throat and- and…for a moment, Rogue felt her larynx being crushed and her head spun, before her powers began to work. Carol's hand sporadically tightened as she felt the pull of her powers and she gave a small, panicked scream, as Rogue's hands both affixed to her wrist. The strength was failing from her hands as darkness crept across her vision. She couldn't let go and Rogue's grip, as she absorbed- as she _stole_- Carol's power, was tightening. In panic, she drew back a fist, slamming it directly into Rogue forehead. Bile rose in her mouth and Rogue's throat wasn't giving way in the slightest and…and…

Carol looked up at her own body, passed out on top of Rogue's. There was a throbbing pain in her shoulder and her throat was sore and constricted and, like a tide, pain swept through their joint minds and bodies. In Rogue's voice, she gave a moan of confusion and terror, before falling into the abyss herself.

"Roguey!" Gambit shouted, none-too-gently shoving Carol's lax body off Rogue's.

Rogue was unconscious, but her hands were clenched into tight fists and her temple was split, blood streaming down the side of her face. She threw her head from one side to the other, moaning incoherently.

"Roguey, come back, girl," Remy pleaded, grasping her face, palms gloved and fingers entwined in her hair. "Theo- go get Stormy. Get the Professor back. Rogue's hurt bad."

As Etienne sprinted off, Rogue's eyes flicked open…they were wide and panicked.

"Remy…Remy, what's happenin'?" she said confused. "She's in here, she's still here…she en't like the others, she fighting and- it hurts!" Rogue pressed her hands against her temples, as if hoping to alleviate the crushing pressure, as inside her mind…Carol screamed, furious. "Get off me!"

The last words were said in a growling tone, as Rogue gave Remy what would appear to be a light shove…only Remy went flying. Rogue-Carol floated into the air, blood still dripping down their face, before looking down at the lax body of Carol.

"What did you do to me you bitch!" Rogue-Carol demanded, before her powers flickered between them and they hit the ground with the lightest of thumps. "Get – outta – mah- head!"

And then purple flashed across their vision, and they swooned as one.

…

_And __were standing in the grounds of the Mansion. Rogue now wore her X-Men uniform and Carol a clinging, black suit…a stark lightning bolt striking across her torso. And there was a purple-haired woman who Rogue, through Carol, knew to be Psylocke and Betsy. A traitor._

"_What is this place?" Carol demanded, her voice almost fading, the woman dropping into a defensive position, ready to strike out._

"_Rogue knows the answer," Psylocke said, her voice seeming small and insignificant. "And we don't belong here. Only I have a body to go to."_

"_This is mah mind," Rogue said and her voice echoed through the void, rife with wonderment- suddenly, she heard another voice that Carol couldn't hear._

_-Rogue, I know the Professor taught you how to block telepathic attacks…block us both when I grab her…don't worry. I'm with Moira McTaggert…I'm a spy.-_

_The clogs seemed to turn in Carol's head…if there were three minds and in one body…that meant one body was up for the grabs. So she figured she'd have to defeat either Rogue or Psylocke. She turned, before diving at Rogue. Psylocke gave a yell, thinking that Carol would have tried to attack her, trying to run through the immeasurable distance, as their corporeal forms neared. Rogue's eyes were wide and fearful and she suddenly shouted, her voice laden with power._

"_NO!!"_

_A tall figure appeared behind Rogue, throwing out her arms and seizing Carol in a telepathic vice, her scarlet hair flaring and eyes glowing. Suddenly, another figure, more familiar to Psylocke appeared…keen eyes and distinctive features that blurred in and out of focus, the shade of Xavier added his power to Jean's. And, flitting from the recesses of Rogue's mind, other shadows of mutants and people…a blue-bodied demonic creature that grabbed Carol's immobilised form, dragging her into darkness. Nightcrawler. Two figures that seemed to soar with invisible wings, before raising their arms back and summoning a wind that sent Carol screaming into the shadows…swamped by these shades of all the shades that Rogue had called to protect her, she disappeared, born to some prison in the complex puzzle of Rogue's mind._

"_You too, hon'," Rogue said weakly, as the void began to darken. "I think Ah'll just…"_

…

Then Rogue went limp and into true unconsciousness. Psylocke shook her head, aware that she'd been just standing behind Rogue, eyes closed and purple light still dancing around her hands. She shook her head, suddenly reading a wave of anger. She looked up to see a glowing card held mere inches from her face. Remy Le Beau had evidently gotten the rest of the X-Men together and they surrounded the lax bodies of Rogue and the comatose Carol. Psylocke swallowed, putting her hands up defensively.

"The name's Psylocke…" she offered, dialling something into her watch. "The Professor and Moira McTaggert will vouch for me…"

Ooc: Oh, wow. Totally did a whole paragraph, despite major writer's block for this story…anyway, I'll improve it if I ever defeat my disinterest. Basic synopsis: Carol shows her true colours, Psylocke reveals herself to be against Magneto and the battle of the minds. Which means I totally ignored the way Rogue originally got her flight and super strength, but, hell, by the end of the chapter, she's got'em!


End file.
